Porcelain
by thatgleekychick
Summary: Blaine's not thrilled about starting a new school his junior year. But in a matter of eight hours, he manages to meet two people who will change his mind, and his future. Kurt has a secret. And the more he pushes people away, the easier it will be in the end. Come graduation, whether in a body bag or an airplaine, Kurt Hummel is leaving Ohio for good. AU. Warning: Physical Abuse.
1. Chapter 1

Hello :)

I told myself I was semi-retired from writing fanfiction, but as any writer is, I'm a slave to my muse and this story wouldn't leave me alone. Plus I missed writing fic a little! I'm not sure exactly where this came from, but as mentioned, I got the idea and I couldn't shake it.

This might be the darkest thing I've ever written. So **WARNING**: there will be some physical abuse in this story. It's mild in this chapter, but will probably progress with the story. This is also my first attempt at AU, so sorry if things are a little awkward.

Let me know if it's worth continuing!

* * *

Though it was the first day of a new school year, the summer heat still radiated through Lima, Ohio as Blaine Anderson stepped out of his mother's car for his first day at a brand new school. Having moved with his family in July, Blaine left behind a school that he loved, and a group of friends who promised to keep in touch. Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the transfer of schools, Blaine waved goodbye to his mother as she pulled away from the front of William McKinley High School. At least for today, Blaine had no other option but to make it until the last bell rang at three o'clock.

Adjusting the strap on his brown messenger bag, Blaine took a deep breath to calm him nerves and then turned to enter the unfamiliar school Inside, he maneuvered through the locker lined hallways and sea of strangers until he managed to find the hallway that, according to the sheet that contained his schedule, held his locker. Finding the tan door labeled D425 Blaine quickly worked the lock based on the combination his sheet, and opened the door. Blaine studied the grey interior of the locker, decorated by only bits of graffiti that had been added through the years.

Blaine placed the bagged lunch that he'd made that morning in the barren locker then reached into his bag and began emptying the notebooks and folders from his bag into the locker. Glancing at his schedule, he noted that his first class was History, and based on the map of the school printed on the back of the schedule, the classroom was on the other side of campus. Checking his watch, Blaine made note that there were still fifteen minutes before classes started and he wasn't particularly interested in being early.

Blaine hated the first day of school. It was torture most of the time, but as the new kid, it was just cruel and unusual. It was common practice amongst educators nationwide to encourage social interaction between students by forcing them to stand up in front of everyone and introduce themselves to their classmates. Blaine hoped he could get through the day with the repeated speech of "Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson," before sitting back down. He wouldn't get by with simply "Hello, I'm Blaine Anderson." But teachers were always the most interested (or at least they pretended to be), with the new students in the school. Most of the kids here had been going to school together since preschool. New kids and freshman were fresh faces, a change of pace. These teachers always wanted to know more. And each time Blaine stood up and told them 'I like to sing' with a shy smile and a shrug of his shoulders, he always got a less than enthusiastic response from both his teachers and his peers. That was, until Dalton. At Dalton he was approached by two boys and then asked to join the Dalton Academy Warbler. Blaine had accepted with a smile. Now in front of a locker at a different school, Blaine pushed away the feeling of longing for Dalton Academy and reminded himself that this was the third time in the last three years that he had to do this and he should be a pro by now. He would get through it.

Blaine was shaken from his thoughts by the loud thunder of something crashing into the lockers next to him. Blaine looked over, bewildered, to see that it wasn't a what, but a who. On the floor sat a boy, his back pressed against the lockers. This boy had been thrown into the bank of unforgiving metal. Blaine noted the laughter from somewhere down the hall, but he couldn't be bothered with anything but the boy next to him. His brown hair looked like it had taken some work to make sure that it sat perfectly on top of his head. Blaine noticed the boy's unusual outfit: A perfectly fitted long sleeved shirt, topped with a vest, accompanied by a pair of black skinny jeans and white boots that hit the boy mid-calf. He was dressed like he'd walked out of New York's fashion week, something Blaine had never seen anywhere in Ohio. It wasn't until the other boy looked up and locked eyes with Blaine that Blaine truly noticed how beautiful the other boy was. His eyes were a stunning shade of blue that reminded him of the water near the lake house he'd gone to over spring break last year. And the boys skin; it was pale but in a way that only enhanced the other boy's beauty.

"A-are you all right?" Blaine asked when he managed to find his voice.

"I'm fine," the other boy muttered.

Blaine extended his hand out to help the other boy but the boy just shook his head before pushing himself off the ground and turning to work the lock of the locker right next to Blaine's. He was muttering something under his breath, clearly frustrated after what had just happened to him. Blaine was a little startled himself. At Dalton, there had been a zero tolerance bullying policy. There were never any of the other students crashing into locker banks. But before Dalton, there had been Westerville High and there had been bullies and days where Blaine had wished he'd only been pushed into his locker. Regardless of the severity of the bullying, he could still sympathize with the other boy.

"I'm Blaine," he said extending his hand once more, "I'm, uh, new here."

The other boy turned his hesitant blue eyes towards Blaine before he rolled his eyes and his hand reached out to meet Blaine's.

"Kurt," the other boy said before removing his hand from Blaine's.

"It's nice to meet you," Blaine said shyly, "I should, uh, get to class."

Kurt only nodded and then turned to focus on the inside of his locker and rummaged through the little bit that was in there. Maneuvering this way through the crowd of strangers, having met only one of the undoubtedly several people today, Blaine couldn't help but to think that his first day at William McKinley had certainly started with a bang.

* * *

To Blaine's surprise, only five of his seven teachers made him get up in front of the class. He told them his name, and that he'd transferred from Dalton Academy for Boys in Westerville because his Dad got a job in Lima and his parents didn't want him to be far too away; and that he liked to sing. He repeated the same speech, word for word each time the teacher asked. Most of the time it was met with silence and then some forced applause, but the last time Blaine recited his speech, during sixth period Geometry, it was met by a high pitched squeal which made everyone, including Blaine, cringe and turn to look at the tiny brunette in the front row. She immediately shot up from her seat and skipped over to where Blaine stood at the front of the class (this was the only teacher that actually made him stand at the very front).

"Rachel Berry," she said with an extended hand.

"Hi," Blaine said hesitantly accepting her handshake. This girl was a little intense.

"Are you any good?" Rachel said the words coming like rapid fire out of her mouth.

"Uh, I guess," Blaine said, "I was the lead of the show choir at my old school."

"Brilliant," Rachel exclaimed, "Sing for me. Mr. Shue trusts my judgment and if I say that you're good enough for New Directions you're good enough. I have a perfect ear for talent. I, myself, am very talented.

"You want me to sing?" Blaine questioned, "Right here?"

"Of course. A great performer is always prepared for an impromptu performance."

"I'd rather not."

Rachel huffed, 'Fine. But the first Glee Club meeting is tomorrow at three-thirty. There's a sign-up sheet by the main office. You can put your name on it or just show up."

"We'll see," Blaine said before the teacher interrupted them both and asked both Blaine and Rachel to have a seat.

Blaine returned to his desk thinking not of Geometry, but of New Directions. He hadn't given much thought to extracurricular activities while he was at McKinley; especially glee club. But maybe it would help with the adjustment process. He'd eaten lunch alone that day and it really wouldn't hurt him to make a couple of friends. Singing and dancing, it was what he loved to do. And if joining New Directions let him do it, plus make some friends, it wouldn't hurt to at least try.

Blaine was thankful when the last class of the day, English, started without a special introduction to Blaine Anderson. The teacher took attendance and it wasn't until the teacher called for 'Kurt Hummel' that Blaine had even realized that Kurt was in the room sitting in the back corner. He didn't speak when the teacher called on him, only made eye contact for long enough to communicate that he was present and then turned his attention back towards the notebook in front of him, his hand scribbling furiously along the page. The teacher didn't comment on his lack of attention, but quickly went on explaining the syllabus.

When class ended, Blaine moved out of the classroom and through the crowds of anxious teenagers all desperate to get home and do whatever it was that they did after school. Some rushed off to hang out with friends while the homework load was still light. Others rushed to after school activities. Some simply wanted to just get home. But Blaine moved at a slower speed through the hallways knowing that his mother was going to be later picking him up because of the book club she'd joined shortly after they arrived in Lima. Noticing the time, Blaine wondered what number the Warblers would practice at their first meeting and who would take over as lead.

Throughout the day Blaine had managed to memorize his locker combination and opened the tan door with ease. There was more in his locker than had been there at the start of the day. There were textbooks and other supplies now littering the once vacant space. In the course of just one eight hour day, Blaine managed to make room for himself in a space he had no desire that morning of occupying long term. And he now had something resembling a friend in Rachel Berry.

Blaine turned when he heard shouting behind him. The first thing he noticed was that two bigger kids, football players Blaine assumed by their letterman jackets, that were stalking down the hallway calling for the attention of someone. It wasn't long before Blaine spotted Kurt rushing through what was left of the crowd, his attention focused at the floor in front of his feet, a couple of books held tightly to his chest. When Kurt reached the lockers, he kept his focus on opening his lock, and not at the boys who had stopped behind Kurt.

"Why don't you show us your wings fairy boy?" one of the boys asked. He was tall, dark skinned and very much built like a football player.

"Are they sparkly Hummel?" the other taunted. This one was light skinned, but was still sun kissed from a day at the beach. He was taller than the other boy, but built the same.

Kurt continued to ignore them. The first boy made another comment and the moment the word 'fag' escaped the boy's lips, Blaine turned instantly.

"Why don't you back off?" Blaine said raising his voice at the two strangers.

"Who are you?" the second boy questioned, "I've never seen you before. Hummel, did you get yourself a mail-order husband?"

Blaine glanced at Kurt who continued his quiet, reserved focus on his locker.

"I'm bored," the first boy commented, "Hummel's not playing nice. Let's go."

The other boy followed the first boy like sheep following the herd. The hallway was suddenly very empty and very quiet.

"I'm sorry if that was out of line," Blaine said, "Are you all right?"

"Look," Kurt snapped. It was the first word he'd said throughout the entire ordeal, "We aren't friends. I'm sorry if something I did gave you that impression but we are in fact, _not friends_. So please, mind your own business. You'll thank me later."

Kurt slammed his locker door shut with a sound that echoed the one made that morning as Kurt's body had crashed against it and without looking back at Blaine, walked away.

Blaine wondered what Kurt could have meant when he said he'd thank him later for not being his friend. Blaine couldn't help but think about Kurt and the two very personal, yet public situations that he had found the boy in that day as he walked down the main hallway to meet his mother. He knew how Kurt felt; he understood the need that Kurt had to push everyone away, especially strangers like Blaine. As Blaine passed the announcement board, he stopped and searched until he found the sign-up sheet for New Directions hidden underneath some flyers for the Cheerios. There was not a single name on the list, only obscene drawings. Blaine smiled to himself as he scribbled his name down on the first non-vandalized line.

* * *

Kurt pushed his way through the front door of Uncle Tim's house and scowled. The place was a mess. A trail of the clothes his uncle had worn the night before started in the living room and continued down the hall to his uncle's bedroom. There was a rather large pile of dirty dishes in the sink and there was a tinge of vomit wafting through the air. Everything about the state of the house meant that Kurt's uncle had had another night of drinking with the boys before his rather trashy girlfriend came by. It wasn't the first time Uncle Tim had done this. In fact, it happened almost every night.

Kurt sighed and put his bag down on the couch before rolling up his sleeves and beginning his chores. The clothes that had been carelessly tossed aside needed to be removed from sight, a load of clothes washed, the dishes done. Kurt glanced at his watched and picked up his pace when he realized he only had forty-five minutes until Uncle Tim would be home. Kurt found himself hoping that Uncle Tim would stop at the bar before coming back here. That would give him enough time to finish all the chores before disappearing into his room.

The first thing that Kurt noticed when Uncle Tim walked through the front door was that there was a smile on his face and two bottles of wine, held by the neck, between his fingers. He was alone, which meant that he shouldn't have consumed any alcohol yet. Kurt worked quickly to put the finishing touches on dinner: spaghetti with jarred sauce and garlic bread. All he needed to do was have dinner ready and then he could disappear into his room. Kurt turned back to the stove to drain the water from the pasta before adding the sauce to it.

There are no words exchanged as Uncle Tim moved towards the refrigerator to chill the evening's refreshments. As he passed Kurt his shoulder pressed against Kurt, right between the shoulder blades, sending him forward. Kurt reached out to steady himself and his left hand landed onto the pan sitting on top of the stove. The one he had only removed from the oven as Uncle Tim walked through the door, the one that was still sizzling. Kurt yelled as the pain spread through his hand. Uncle Tim paid no attention to Kurt who was cradling his hand against his chest. Once the wine was in the refrigerator, Uncle Tim moved past Kurt once more, avoiding physical contact but disappearing back into the living room. Kurt sighed and moved to the sink to run some water over his hand which was a medium shade of red. After a moment Kurt returned to the preparation of dinner. Mixing the noodles and the sauce in a large bowl, he reached into the cabinet to grab a Tupperware container, putting some of the spaghetti inside. He wasn't hungry then, but with two bottles of wine in the refrigerator, he wouldn't dare come out of his room once he was inside. It would be cold, but it would be better than having to deal with a very drunk Uncle Tim and his heckling Wall Street wannabe buddies. Kurt grabbed a fork out of the drawer and put it on top of the Tupperware before grabbing a plate and began piling the sauced noodles onto a plate. Grabbing another fork from the drawer, he threw a piece of the garlic bread onto the plate and set it on the kitchen table. Walking into the living room he found his bag on the floor, the contents of it in scattered around on the carpet. Kurt looked at Uncle Tim, trying to keep his face calm and neutral to the anger that was bubbling inside.

"If you keep leaving your shit around, I'm going to throw all of it away," Uncle Tim spat, "You will have nothing."

Kurt remained quiet and bent down to retrieve his bag and all of the things that had fallen out.

"Dinner's on the table," Kurt muttered as he put his things back in his bag, "And there's more on the counter."

Uncle Tim didn't say anything, but made his way towards the kitchen. As he passed Kurt, his foot came out and nudged Kurt's leg. Because of his crouched position, Kurt lost balance and fell onto the carpet.

Sighing Kurt just picked up his bag, moving quickly back into the kitchen to grab the Tupperware and fork and headed towards the staircase that led down to his bedroom.

Once he could sit down on his bed, Kurt examined his hand, hissing at the pain that radiated from where Kurt's fingertips rubbed against the tender skin. It was sure to leave a mark for a few days. Kurt was grateful it wasn't his drawing hand as he grabbed his school bag from the floor next to his bed and settled down at his desk. Having just completed the first day of school, the work load was light. So instead of the fifty pages of reading he needed to start for the end of the week, Kurt pulled out his sketchbook.

He opened the book to the page he'd started the previous morning. It wasn't finished, and there were only three days left to enter his submission for the Parsons Scholarship program needed to be in the mail. Resting his burnt hand against his knee, Kurt pulled out a pencil and began working vigorously on making the dress he'd been imagining since breakfast yesterday come into the next step of reality on the page in front of him.

After an hour all it needed was color. Kurt took a break to eat his now room temperature spaghetti and after changing into pajamas he set back down at his desk. He stared at the sketch for a long moment, deciding what color would work the best. Because they needed to be the best sketches. He needed to get that scholarship and get out of Lima. There were no other options, not anymore.

Kurt took a deep breath and looked up at the photo on his desk. In the photo, a man and a woman held each other close, giant, happy smiles on their faces. The ache in his chest overtook the pain from his burn. Kurt missed his parents. His mom, Elisabeth, had died when he was eight in a car accident. It was terrible to have his mother kiss him on the cheek and tell you to have a good day at school one morning, and by four when the bus pulled up in front of the house, she was gone. But he still had his dad, until one day four years later, when he was pulled from class because his dad had suffered a heart attack. He fell into a coma, and then never woke up. There was only one family member to take him, Burt's younger brother Tim.

Tim was nothing like Burt. Burt was a mechanic, an honest working man. Burt loved his family and they came first. Tim was a business man who had lived in Dayton until Burt had died and he came to Lima to take custody of Kurt. To say that Tim wasn't meant to handle children was an understatement. Tim wasn't prepared to deal with Kurt, especially once the bullying started. And he certainly wasn't prepared for the realization that Kurt was, in fact, gay. It started with a slap across the face if Kurt would talk back, but eventually he became an entirely different game. Whether it was just the way he was, or the stress of being forced to be a father was too much, Uncle Tim turned to alcohol. Sometimes when Uncle Tim was drunk, he thought a little tough love would help Kurt out, make him more of a man, less gay. Kurt had been shoved into walls, furniture, and like tonight with the stove, anything else Uncle Tim could manage. Kurt learned the hard way not to call him out on it. The one time that he did, about six months after it started, he was greeted not-so-kindly by Uncle Tim's closed fist. It was then that he started closing himself off. He dropped out of all his afterschool activities and distanced himself from the small group of friends that he had. He was expected to keep the house clean, and if it wasn't Kurt would be dealt with. Kurt learned quickly how to clean the house and make dinner all before Uncle Tim got home. He knew that if he could get that all done, he could escape to his room and rarely would he be bothered. As long as he stayed in his room, it was like Uncle Tim forgot that he existed. And Kurt wouldn't have it any other way. He was a senior and as soon as he could get out of Lima, he was gone. That was why Parsons was so important. Once he was in, he could leave what was left of his family behind and take over the fashion world. In a body bag or an airplane, Kurt Hummel was leaving Ohio once graduation was over.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I had intended for this to be ready sooner but The Land of Stories came out last week and then this past Saturday I actually met Chris Colfer! He was perfect :)

R&R?

* * *

The next day, aside from their shared English class, Blaine didn't see Kurt until they were both at their lockers at the very end of the day. Blaine was still slow finding his way around the school and Rachel had cornered him before lunch, and then dragged him into the auditorium for an impromptu duet where, after Blaine complied, she assured him that he could definitely keep up with her vocally and was a very viable option for male lead. When Blaine had walked into his last class of the day just a heartbeat before the bell rang, Blaine noticed Kurt again in the back of the classroom, his eyes focused on his book rather than the people around him and Mr. Thompson came charging in behind Blaine and calling for the attention of the entire class.

Now that the school day was over, Blaine had thirty minutes before his glee audition. It wasn't the performance itself that Blaine was nervous about; he was a performer, it's what he did. But there were going to be thirteen people sitting in that room, watching him, all of them judging him. It would be all of them which he would have to impress if he was going to get along with what he hoped would be his teammates. So Blaine took his time at his locker, running through his audition number once more in his head as Kurt arrived, sans the entourage of tormentors, and began playing with the dial of his locker. Kurt had made it clear the day before that he and Blaine were not, and never would be, friends. And because of that, Blaine remained silent, distracting himself with checking and double checking that he had all the books he needed for the homework he'd been assigned.

Blaine's attention was drawn to Kurt when he let a hiss escaped his lips as his left hand moved to catch a falling book from the top shelf of his locker. Blaine looked in Kurt's direction just as the boy placed the book back on the shelf and turned his palm up to examine it. Blaine immediately noticed the glaring red hue Kurt's skin had adopted overnight. There were a few blisters forming beneath his middle and ring finger on his palm.

"You burned your hand." Blaine said part question part statement before he even knew he was speaking.

Kurt stayed silent but quickly put his hand by his side.

Blaine kept quiet again, putting the rest of the book he need into his bag. Kurt continued to organize himself, another hiss emitting from his lips each time he used his left hand. When Blaine heard the third hissing sound, he gave up on his efforts not to bother Kurt.

"Mix some honey and flour and put it on your hand. Should take the sting out pretty quickly," Blaine said, "Oh, and don't pop the blisters unless you have Neosporin or something around. And you should probably wrap that up."

Kurt's head shot up at Blaine's directions, his eyes locked with Blaine's. Kurt hadn't expected any kind of help. Especially after he'd been pretty rude to Blaine about them not being friends. Of course, they weren't friends. They'd just met each other and Kurt was convinced that friends meant ties to Lima. And he wasn't looking for any of those.

"I had a pretty bad sunburn one summer when I was little," Blaine said noticing Kurt's uneasy expression, "Kept me inside for two days until my mom looked on the internet and found the honey and flour remedy. I could go back outside the next day."

"Thanks," Kurt said.

"Sure thing," Blaine said.

Blaine had expected Kurt to shrug him off again with a lecture about how they weren't friend. When he didn't, a silence fell between the two boys until Blaine heard someone call his name from down the hall. Both Kurt and Blaine looked to see Rachel standing at the end of the hallway, her hands on her hips.

"Blaine, could I get a minute with you before Glee rehearsal please?" Rachel said as she made her way closer, her eyes focused on Blaine. But once she stood directly in front of Blaine her eyes glanced quickly towards Kurt, a glimpse of emotion danced across them. Blaine's gaze followed Rachel's sight back towards Kurt who seemed to have turned his attention to his locker again before turning back towards the brunette who was once again completely focused on Blaine, "I'd like to know what song you're auditioning with this afternoon."

"Uh—sure," Blaine said turning back to say goodbye to Kurt, but he was gone. Blaine turned and watched as he walked down the hallway towards the entrance.

"I see you made a friend," Rachel said as Blaine turned his attention back to her.

"I wouldn't go that far," Blaine said as the two began walking towards the choir room. It was the truth.

"Oh," Rachel said her eyes downcast but Blaine could read the expression on her face.

"Do you know him?"

"Not anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Rachel stopped and looked at Blaine, "Kurt and I, well, we used to be best friends."

"Used to be."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"I'd like to know myself," Rachel said, "One day we're planning makeovers and the next he won't answer my calls or texts and every time I tried to talk to him he'd walk away from me."

Blaine remained quiet.

"But that was a year ago, and if he doesn't want to be friends with anyone it's not my business anymore," Rachel continued, "Now. Let's focus on more important topics. Like what song you are about to dazzle the pants off New Directions with."

Blaine was suddenly curious to hear more about the relationship between Rachel and Kurt but refrained from asking too many questions. None of that was his business, "Always Be My Baby. Originally by Mariah Carey, but I think David Cooks rendition was pretty amazing."

Blaine watched as Rachel's eyes became wide with anticipation as she grabbed onto his arm and guided him to the choir room.

* * *

Kurt was sitting, uninterested, as his history teachers droned on in front of the room about the Civil War. He really couldn't care about the Union and the Confederacy. Instead his mind drifted to New York. The place he wished so hard to be his future home. Since his dad had passed away, New York was all that he wanted; to escape Lima. There were 268 days until the school year was over. He'd turn eighteen a week later and then he was gone. He'd gotten a job that past summer doing the most disgusting work in the kitchen of a restaurant, and he was able to save enough money for a one way ticket to New York City. He was counting on the full ride to Parsons to get him at least four years before he had to figure out what came next. All he knew was that returning to Lima was not an option.

"Mr. Hummel," Mr. Hodgson's said pulling Kurt abruptly from his thoughts.

Kurt turned and looked sheepishly at his teacher who was standing in front of him, holding out a slip of paper. _Great, detention_ Kurt thought taking the slip from Mr. Hodgson's hand. He looked it over quickly and noticed that it wasn't a detention slip. Instead, his presence was being requested in Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counselor's, office immediately.

Kurt looked up at his teacher quizzically but was only offered a slight shrug of Mr. Hodgson's shoulders.

Kurt got up from his seat and grabbed his bag before heading out of the classroom and down the empty halls towards Miss Pillsbury's office. He wasn't sure what he could have possibly done. He never had asked for help for college applications and his grades were just fine.

When he approached the Plexiglas walls of Miss Pillsbury's office, he saw the red haired woman sitting at her desk, looking nervous as she wrung her hands meticulously over and over. At least this got him out of a boring lecture.

"Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said knocking on the doorframe, "You wanted to see me."

"Oh, Kurt! Yes." Miss Pillsbury exclaimed, "Please, sit down."

Kurt shrugged his bag off his shoulder and sat down in one of the two seats in front of Emma's desk. She shot up out of her seat a moment later and quickly moved over the door, closing it before reclaiming her seat behind her well organized desk.

"So, Kurt," Emma said her hands clasped together sitting in front of her on the desk, "How are things with you?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed in confusion, "Good."

"Are you sure? There's nothing bothering you that you might want to…express in a private confidential manner?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No," Miss Pillsbury said before focusing, "Kurt. A few of the faculty members at McKinley have expressed their concern that you might be at risk."

Kurt raised his brows towards Miss Pillsbury, "For what?"

"They've noticed lately that you've been rather separated from your classmates."

"You think I'm anti-social?"

"Well, yes," Emma said bluntly, "One of the teachers noticed the rather severe burn on your hand and wondered if maybe it was—"

"Self-inflicted?"

"Yes."

"It's nice to know that the faculty is worried that I'm going off them, or myself, but I promise you Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said holding up his wrapped hand, "this was nothing more than a baking accident."

"Kurt, you know that anything you say to me will be kept confidential. You can talk to me about anything if you'd like."

"Thank you for your concern Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said. It had only taken them a year to mention anything, "But I'm fine."

Kurt stood up and Miss Pillsbury looked up at him with her wide hazel eyes full of something he hadn't seen in any of the faculty ever; genuine concern. Kurt pushed away the clenching at his heart with a deep breath before heading towards the door.

"Kurt," Miss Pillsbury called just after Kurt had opened the door, "if you change your mind, or if something changes. My door is always open."

Kurt nodded silently and walked into the crowded hallway now crowded with students.

* * *

Kurt hurried home after school. His application for the Parsons scholarship would be going into the mail before school the next morning and he needed to proofread his essay one more time, and he had to go over his designs and make sure they were completely flawless. Luckily, his uncle left the house in decent condition so there were few chores that needed to be completed before Kurt could disappear. He managed to have all of them done with a half hour before Uncle Tim was supposed to be home.

He was almost done going through his essay one final time, the soundtrack to Phantom of the Opera playing softly from his laptop speakers, the three designs that just looking at, made him beam with pride, were sitting on his desk, before his bedroom door burst open a with a thunderous clash as the doorknob hit the wall making a slight impression in the plaster.

Kurt immediately went through the chores he'd done when he'd gotten home. What could he have missed? What would have made Uncle Tim angry enough to come bursting in his room. He couldn't think of a single thing.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked trying to remain calm though Uncle Tim standing there, visibly angry cause his heart to beat wildly in his chest.

"What's wrong?" Uncle Tim seethed, "What's wrong is that I got a phone call from an Emma Pillsbury today at work. She wanted to talk to my about your behavior at school. She said she was worried that there were maybe some problems at home that could be causing your behavior. Did you say something to someone Kurt?"

"W-what n-no. Of c-course not," Kurt said mentally cursing Miss Pillsbury for calling Uncle Tim.

"She mentioned the burn on your hand."

"She thinks I did it to myself," Kurt said quickly, "She thinks I'm hurting myself."

"You did hurt yourself," Uncle Tim said taking two steps into the room, "If you weren't so clumsy on your feet you wouldn't have nearly fallen over when I accidently brushed into you."

_And I accidently threw myself into the bookshelf last month or the China cabinet six months ago._ Kurt thought.

"Kurt," Uncle Tim said as he continued to move towards Kurt, "If your school suspects otherwise, I could lose everything. I've already uprooted my life for you when your father died, I will not lose my job or my house or my _life_ because you can't manage to handle yourself properly in a social situation."

Uncle Tim stood in front of Kurt as the boy braced himself for what could possibly happen. But Kurt's heart stopped when Uncle Tim picked up one of Kurt's designs with his thumb and index finger as if he was diseased. Kurt wanted to jump up and take his design back. Those were like gold, precious and essential for getting into Parsons. But he remained seated, but his eyes were wide and he could tell immediately that Uncle Tim knew that the design between his fingers was precious to Kurt, that it meant something.

Uncle Tim grabbed the design with his other hand and with a fluid motion, tore it down the middle. Kurt's jaw dropped but he remained still as Uncle Tim continued to rip the paper into pieces before throwing them at Kurt and turning towards the door.

"Stop doodling and get a life," Uncle Tim said slamming the door closed behind him.

The moment the door was shut Kurt shot up on of his desk chair; the pieces of his design that had fallen on to him now fell to the floor. Kurt turned the lock on his door, angry with himself that he hadn't thought of that sooner. He turned and leaned back against the door, his heart hammering in his chest, the tears he'd been holding back slipped down his cheeks as he looked at the pieces of his design, his favorite design, scattered across the carpet of his bedroom. Three weeks it had taken him to perfect that design, and it had only taken fifteen seconds to destroy it.

He glanced over at the clock, it was just after six. He needed to leave for school by eight if he wanted to get to the post office before getting to school. That gave him fourteen hours. Wiping the tears from his eyes, Kurt took a deep breath before walking back to his desk. He picked up the pieces that Uncle Tim had thrown and placed them back together on the top of the desk. Grabbing a roll of scotch tape from the top draw, Kurt began to reassemble the pieces like a puzzle, mending each detached piece with a piece of tape until it was a ragged version of what was once perfect.

Kurt removed his laptop from the desk, then pulled out a blank sheet of paper and set it next to the destroyed version. Pulling a pencil from the cup on his desk, Kurt began recreating the design the best he could. He would have that design ready to go before he left for school. He had fourteen hours and he'd stay up all night if he had to.

* * *

Kurt spent no more than thirty minutes in his bed; but he didn't do much more than toss and turn on top of his comforter. He was afraid that if he fell asleep, he would oversleep and after all the work he'd done recreating his design, there was no way he was going to miss the only opportunity he had to get his application in the mail.

He had just enough time to shower and get to the post office before he dragged himself into the crowded halls of McKinley. He hadn't done any of the work he needed to do and his eye lids were so heavy, he was sure to fall asleep in at least one class. It was officially the worst first week of school ever.

He approached the locker and it barely even registered to him that Blaine was at his. Kurt force himself to get it locker open and when he took a step backward, the ground beneath him was suddenly unstable.

"Whoa," Blaine said as Kurt swayed.

He would have fallen had Blaine not grabbed him, hands on his waist. Kurt seemed hypersensitive to the warmth that emitted from Blaine's touch. It actually felt good. Kurt was suddenly aware that he was in fact in school at his locker and the new kid was holding him around the waist. He stood up straight and took a step back out of Blaine's hold.

"Uh," Kurt said, "Thanks."

"You look like you could use some sleep," Blaine said.

Kurt interpreted that to mean that he looked like shit and cursed his concealer for not doing a better job at hiding the massive luggage he was carrying underneath his eyes.

"I'll be fine," Kurt said wondering how bad the school coffee tasted.

"It's a little early in the school year to be pulling all-nighters isn't it?"

"I was finishing a project," Kurt said too tired to try to fight Blaine's friendliness off.

"Must have been pretty important," Blaine said returning to the exchange of books from his bag to his locker.

"You have no idea," Kurt said.

"I'll see you in English," Blaine said adjusting the shoulder strap on his bag before he clapped his hand down on Kurt's shoulder and walked away leaving Kurt with a feeling that wrapped itself tightly around Kurt's heart. It was something he'd felt before, mostly in the last twelve months, but never put a name on it. In his vulnerable state Kurt could name the feeling, they called it loneliness.

* * *

Blaine never asked Rachel any more questions about her relationship with Kurt and he knew better than to bring it up with the other boy. Blaine had made it through the first week at a new school. He'd made new friends in New Directions, even became the male lead. And the most surprising thing to happen that week was the growing curiosity he'd developed about the boy whose locker was next to his.

That same boy came crashing into bank of lockers before English on Friday afternoon. Blaine watched as Kurt's head crashed into the ventilation slots carved into the metal doors. Blaine turned around to see the two boys from earlier in the week, whose name's he had learned were Azimio and Karofsky. When he turned back to Kurt there was a tiny stream of blood flowing down the right side of Kurt's face.

"You're bleeding," Blaine said shocked, gesturing towards the right side of his own face

Kurt put his hand up to his forehead and winced as he hand came away red. Sighing in frustration, Kurt turned immediately on his heels and headed down the hallway. Blaine shut the door of his locker and moved to follow Kurt, right into the boy's bathroom.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked as he walked into the bathroom after Kurt who had put himself in front of the mirror examining the tiny cut on his temple.

"Go away Blaine."

"Do you need me to get the nurse?"

"Go away Blaine!" Kurt shouted not turning away from the mirror as he wet a brown paper towel and held it above his eye.

"Go away Blaine!" Kurt repeated, his voice rising in volume. He didn't turn away from the mirror as he wet a brown paper towel and held it above his eye.

"You can't get mad at me for making sure you're all right."

"I can handle it," Kurt said monotone

"I never said you couldn't. But this is kind of a big deal—everything that's happening to you, the bullying. I get to make sure you're all right."

"Why do you even care? You don't even know me," Kurt said a tiny laugh escaping his lips, "But I'm sure now that you've joined New Directions Rachel has told you everything. Whatever you think you know, you don't."

"I don't think I know anything," Blaine said.

"Then why?"

"Because I've been there. I get it. I've lived it," Blaine said, "You're not the only kid in this school that's been thrown around for being gay."

"Blaine, we're not— "

"Friends. I heard you. But I'd like us to be something. We don't have to be friends, we can be," Blaine paused for a moment thinking of the best way to define their relationship going forward, "locker buddies. We can only talk while we're at our lockers. We don't even really need to talk. But it's better than wasting all that energy pretending that I don't exist don'tcha think?"

"Locker buddies?" Kurt questioned, "We're not six."

"Just go with it Kurt. So are you in?"

"No," Kurt said picking up his bag from the floor and storming out of the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Thank you lovely people who are reading/reviewing/alerting/etc this story. You guys rock!

I feel like this is a spoiler but I also feel like I have to tell you that there is some violence in this chapter. It's in the 3rd segment of this chapter.

We begin, however, with a flashback (in italics). R&R?

* * *

_The temperature was beginning rise as winter finally began releasing Lima from its tight hold as the month turned from March to April and it finally began to feel like spring. It was evidence by the immediate appearance of shorter sleeves, pants and anything else that could be condensed and still pass the school's dress code. Rachel sauntered into school, her pink trolley rolling behind her in a brand new skirt that she and Kurt picked out the week before. She had been waiting for the weather to be just right before she paired it with her favorite green blouse and the gorgeous Star of David necklace her fathers had given her for Hanukah. Kurt had mentioned how amazing it would look on her and she was proud to show off her first Kurt Hummel created outfit. She beamed as she found her best friend at his locker and called his name from down the hall._

_Kurt looked to see his best friend at the mouth of the hallway, coming towards him with an extra spring her step. He gave her a quick look over and the corner of his mouth turned upward. He'd taken his advice on the ensemble and he'd somehow managed to turn her usually tragic wardrobe into something that complimented his friend. She was really a beautiful girl; she just sometimes managed to dress like a toddler and an elderly woman at the same time. It was usually discouraging for Kurt since his eye and passion for fashion made him want to drag her and her dads' credit card to the mall and buy her new clothes before burning the animal sweaters. But Kurt had settled on using what was already in Rachel's closet and made it…bearable to look at. And as Rachel approached him, he knew he was on the right track. _

"_Looking fierce Ms. Berry," Kurt said as Rachel stopped in front of him then did a full 360 degree turn. _

"_Thank you," Rachel said doing a tiny curtsey, "I have a fabulous new stylist. He could work miracles."_

"_Don't I know it," Kurt said placing a book into his locker. _

"_What about you?" Rachel said tugging at the hem of Kurt's long sleeved white t-shirt, with the sleeves pushed up just a little. He'd paired amazingly with a grey vest and a pair of black jeans, "I thought this would have been a perfect moment to show off that amazing shirt you bought last week."_

"_Oh, uh—"Kurt said not looking Rachel in the eye, "I'm saving it for another day."_

"_Okay," Rachel said tugging again on the hem of Kurt's shirt, "but why are you wearing this? It's much too warm out."_

"_I didn't check the weather before I left the house," Kurt said as he began fumbling through the books in his locker, "I was running late so by the time I realized it was going to be too warm, there wasn't any time to go back and redesign today's outfit."_

"_You could at least roll this up a little more," Rachel said tugging at the left sleeve of the shirt then paused when something caught her eye, "What is that?"_

_Kurt froze and Rachel pulled at his sleeve until she could have a better look. Blemishing Kurt's usually perfect skin were several bruises, all fresh, all screaming against his pale skin in blues and purples. _

"_Kurt," Rachel said panicked, "What happened?"_

"_It's nothing," Kurt said pulling Rachel's hand from his sleeve before pulling the bottom down a little farther. _

"_Kurt," Rachel said, "those look like someone's fingers, like someone grabbed you. Was it Karofsky?"_

"_No," Kurt said quickly, "It's nothing, just drop it."_

"_Kurt," Rachel said her eyes glassy with an army of tears ready to fall to her cheeks._

"_Rachel," Kurt interrupted, "It's nothing, just an accident. They'll go away so please don't bring them up again."_

_Rachel looked up into the eyes of her best friend. They were terrified, pleading with her for once just to let it go. Rachel nodded reluctantly. _

_When Rachel went to meet Kurt at his locker the next morning, the moment he spotted her he turned up his nose, adjusted the strap on his bag and walked away. No words were exchanged; he just left Rachel bewildered and hurt in the middle of the hallway. Rachel tried approaching him between as many classes as she could, but he either wasn't at his locker or took off again the moment he heard her calling from down the hallway. She'd sent countless text messages throughout the day and when Kurt didn't show up for Glee rehearsal, she called him immediately, but received nothing but his voicemail._

_Rachel spent what time she wasn't in class or trying to track Kurt down, trying to figure out what she'd done wrong to make Kurt ignore her the way he was. The last time he'd been like this with her was when she'd accidently scratched the copy of the Wicked soundtrack and he didn't talk to her until she purchased him a new copy. _

_Rachel spent all the time she wasn't in class or trying to track Kurt down, trying to figure out what she'd done wrong to make Kurt ignore her the way he was. The last time he'd been like this with her was when she'd accidentally scratched the copy of the Wicked soundtrack he'd lent her and didn't talk to her until she purchased him a new one. But Rachel wasn't currently in possession of any of his things and they were fine when they'd parted the day before after Glee. Still, she couldn't get him to not run away every time she approached over even look her in the eye. _

_They'd been friends since first grade. Rachel had moved to Lima with her dads and was starting Lima Elementary in the middle of the school year. On her very first day she saw a boy, sitting by himself on the playground. There was a book on his lap but Rachel sat down next to him, introduced herself and then they just became friends. It wasn't long after that that that the teasing began for both of them. Kurt and Rachel would have tea parties instead of playing hopscotch with the other girls, or football with the boys. But together they'd managed to get through elementary school, then junior high school, and they were determined to finish high school and leave Lima for good._

_Rachel wondered why Kurt would act the way he was towards her when they'd been through so much. Rachel asked the other members of New Direction if they'd spoken to Kurt, but found that her best friend seemed to be avoiding everyone. He wasn't at lunch and all text messages were going unanswered. _

_Rachel continued her attempts at contacting Kurt over the weekend, trying every method of communication and social media with the exception of actually showing up on his doorstep. There was one thing that kept her for 7625 Windsor Street and that was Uncle Tim. When Kurt's dad died, Uncle Tim created a strict rule that none of Kurt's friends were to come over to the house under any circumstances. Rachel had always gotten a weird vibe from the older man and didn't dare risk angering him. Kurt had said that he was just having trouble adjusting to his new role as guardian and had no idea how to handle teenagers._

_Monday morning, after two days of constant text messages and voicemails, Rachel searched the crowded hallways for Kurt once more. She had yet to locate him when Mr. Shuester, their choir direction, approached her. _

"_Rachel," he said, "Can I talk to you in my office?"_

"_Mr. Shuester," Rachel said, "I promise I will give you my undivided attention as soon as I find Kurt."_

"_Rachel, I need to talk to you," Mr. Shuester said, pausing only for a moment, "about Kurt."_

_Rachel went quiet, giving her teacher her full attention as she followed Mr. Shuester to his office. At his request, Rachel took a seat in front his desk while the Glee director sat behind his desk, messing around with some papers before looking at Rachel._

"_Rachel," Mr. Shuester said, "Kurt came to me this morning and told me he would be quitting Glee club."_

"_What? Why?"_

"_He just said that it was personal," Mr. Shuester said, "And—and he asked me to ask you to keep your distance from him. At least for now."_

"_He didn't tell you why?" Rachel exclaimed, "Mr. Shuester, this is very unlike Kurt."_

"_I agree with you Rachel," Mr. Shuester explained, "But if Kurt is going through something personal, we have to respect that."_

"_I don't like it," Rachel said pouting, her arms crossed across her chest._

"_You don't have to. But you really should respect Kurt's wishes."_

_Rachel huffed annoyed but then a moment later the tears began racing down her face. Her best friend was going through something that he couldn't tell her about. He was shutting her out and had to have their teacher tell her to stay away. Something was wrong. Nothing made sense. But Mr. Shuester was right; there was nothing more to than respect Kurt's choices and wait around for him to come back to her._

Almost eighteen months later she was still waiting.

* * *

A month after Blaine suggested the ridiculous (yet brilliant) idea that he and Kurt become 'locker buddies', things seemed to have gotten tenser between the boys. Blaine was certain that Kurt was ignoring him since only once had Kurt and Blaine actually been at their lockers at the same time. Blaine made no effort to talk to Kurt, he'd made the effort, and it would be Kurt's move if something were to change. But, even in his absence, Blaine found himself becoming more intrigued by Kurt. He wanted to know why Kurt was so reluctant to accept any form of kindness from Blaine. It seemed that Kurt not being around only made Blaine think about him more.

Blaine walked into the choir room for Glee rehearsal and took his seat next to Rachel. Sectionals were coming up in a couple of weeks and Rachel was very adamant that they add in extra practices. This was why Blaine wasn't surprised a bit when, just as Mr. Shuester entered the room, Rachel jumped from her seat and announced that they would be having a practice Saturday afternoon. This was met with a chorus of aggravated groans but as Rachel continued on about how this was the year to beat Vocal Adrenaline and win Nationals, the atmosphere shifted and excitement began to blow through the room like wind.

Blaine had only heard of Vocal Adrenaline while was at Dalton, but the members of New Directions seemed to have an intense hatred for the Caramel High team. Blaine admired their determination to win and Blaine, their male lead but still the new guy, was happy to help however he could.

Saturday afternoon during one of the breaks, Blaine sat down next to Rachel on the stage. They were sweaty from two straight hours of dance rehearsal.

"I know you want to ask me about him?" Rachel said taking a sip from her pink plastic water bottle.

"Huh?"

"Kurt," Rachel said, "I know you want to know about him."

"I'm just trying to figure out why he hates me," Blaine explained.

"He doesn't hate you," Rachel said, "Kurt's never really hated anyone in his entire life."

"You seem so sure,"

"I've known him since the first grade," Rachel told Blaine, "I was there when his mom died, and then his dad. I was the first person he came out to. I know him better than anybody."

"But he's shutting you out? You know him so well but he just stops talking to you one day and you have no idea why."

"I don't know what's going on with him, Blaine," Rachel said her voice rising a bit, "I just know he decided we weren't friends anymore."

"So who is he friends with?" Blaine asked.

"No one," Rachel stated, "Not that I know of."

"So he just ignores everyone? Talks to no one?"

"I think so. Blaine, it was like a switch had been flipped. One day he was Kurt. He was criticizing everyone's outfit, including my own. We were planning for a weekend of movies and yet another make over. And the next day, it was like Kurt was gone. I mean it looked like Kurt; but that spark, that flicker in his eye that made him who he was, it was gone. He'd been replaced by someone who hasn't looked me in the eye in over a year. He was my best friend, Blaine. And now he's a stranger."

Blaine could hear the waver in Rachel's voice as she spoke of the friend, the best friend, she once had. It was obviously hard for her to think of her friendship with Kurt as something in the past. But with a tiny sniffle and a deep breath, Rachel managed to keep her composure while fighting the tears and missing Kurt.

* * *

Since the first time Uncle Tim had gotten physical with Kurt, he had begun classifying his days into good days and bad days. Good days were those where he managed to avoid Uncle Tim completely, or managed to retreat to his bedroom with little no contact. Kurt considered the day he burned his hand to be a good day.

Kurt's first sign that today would be a bad day was the presence of Uncle Tim's car in the driveway when he arrived home from school. Never before had Uncle Tim returned from work early. Kurt stood like a statue in front of the house. Every part of him was screaming for him to turn around, but he couldn't not go home. He had nowhere to go, no friend's house to escape to. And even if he did, running would only make it worse. Running would only make him angrier. Kurt took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever was inevitable and his feet lead his up the driveway and through the front door.

When Kurt walked into the house, Uncle Tim was nowhere in sight. There was an eerie quietness in the house, the only sounds were Kurt's heart beating frantically in his chest and the thoughts swimming through his mind as he forced himself to become hyper aware of his surroundings. The sound of glass shattering broke the silence and increased the tension in the air. Kurt stayed planted in front of the door, unsure of what to do. His hands began to tremble so he clasped them together over his stomach; it didn't help. Another crash echoed through the house and Kurt's heart nearly stopped at the realization that the sound was coming from his bedroom. Without much thought, Kurt walked quickly down the hall and stood in front of his bedroom, the door wide open.

What Kurt saw was much worse than anything he could have imagined. His once well-kept room now looked like it had been destroyed by a tornado. The drapes had been pulled down from the rod now bent in front of the window. His closet was open and most of his cloth had been removed and now lay in various places around the room, undoubtedly wrinkled. What was once his bedside lamp now lay in pieces underneath the place where his Wicked poster once hung on the wall.

Kurt stood, wide-eyed but silent, as Uncle Tim stood in the middle of the bedroom throwing Kurt's hamper onto the floor before punting it towards the wall. Kurt spied his easel, which had several new designs on it, on the ground, the pages wrinkled and torn beside it.

When Uncle Tim stopped suddenly, it took Kurt a moment to stop taking in the damage that had been done to his room and to his things, and notice the fury in Uncle Tim's eyes as it was directed towards him.

"You," Uncle Tim spat taking three steps to the threshold where Kurt stood stunned. Uncle Tim grabbed hold of Kurt's right arm and dragged him into the room, letting go only to send him crashing into the side of the desk before Kurt could stop himself.

"This is your fault," Uncle Tim shouted even though he was three feet from Kurt who opened his mouth to question Uncle Tim, but choose against it as the other man continued, "I could have had it good. But I got stuck with a dead end job in Lima because your father wanted you to stay here with your friends. I couldn't go to Columbus like I wanted. So instead of having the job of my dreams, I have no job at all."

Kurt's eyes widened at Uncle Tim's words. No so much at the confession that Uncle Tim had lost his job, but for the realization of what that meant for Kurt. It meant that Uncle Tim would not disappear to work during the day. He would be home all day, doing God only knew what. He would be there when Kurt got home, undoubtedly drunk. Kurt offered no apology, because there wasn't anything Kurt could say that would be genuine.

Uncle Tim must have taken offense to Kurt's silence because he grabbed him by his upper arms and threw him into the wall sending Kurt's head crashing into the drywall. The wall had been much gentler than the metal lockers he'd been thrown into earlier that day. But Uncle Tim didn't let go, instead he thrust Kurt in the opposite direction. Kurt's feet became caught in his comforter that was now on the floor, sending his body crashing into the carpet.

Kurt cried out as an intense pain shot through his right arm when he landed. Kurt panicked, thinking his arm was broken. He rolled over to remove his weight from his arm and then tried to lift it. His arm wasn't broken; instead there was a rather large piece of light bulb now embedded in his arm.

Kurt looked up at his uncle, his arm cradled against his chest as he lay on the floor.

"Good," Uncle Tim said looking down at Kurt, "Now you feel a little bit of what I'm feeling."

Uncle Tim lifted his foot then kicked Kurt forcefully in the stomach. Kurt's eyes closed and he groaned as the air left his lungs. He tried to prepare himself for more, but nothing ever came. When Kurt opened his eyes he found Uncle Tim, standing in the middle of the room, his back towards Kurt. He was breathing heavy as he ran his hands through his hair.

"Clean up this room," Uncle Tim muttered as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** If you're reading this, you're amazing. I love you!

Would have had this posted sooner but I haven't had a day off in almost two weeks and I got distracted by things like The Box Scene (CRAZY AMAZING RIGHT?)

Alright, I'll shut up and you can begin with the more interesting stuff. R&R? :)

* * *

Kurt was thrilled to see that Blaine was not at his locker Monday morning. He was in a relatively good mood, despite the fact that Uncle Tim had now been unemployed for two weeks, and did nothing but sit in front of the television and drink himself until he either passed out or went to harass Kurt. The cut on his arm should have probably seen a doctor, but it was beginning to heal all right and there was only a fist sized bruise on his stomach that was beginning to turn hideous shades of yellow and green. But being at school and away from everything else caused a slight lift in Kurt's mood. Usually at school he could take a deep breath and just focus on getting through what was left of his high school career and prepare himself for the future. But lately, for some reason, the second he saw Blaine or the second the other boy showed up at his locker, something flickered on inside Kurt. He always felt like running away and the tension between the two boys became palpable, at least for Kurt, though neither of them ever so much as glanced over at the other anymore. Ever since Kurt walked away from Blaine in the bathroom that afternoon, both boys were doing exactly what Blaine had been trying to avoid, wasting effort ignoring the other.

Kurt was well aware that he could easily just be cordial with Blaine while they were at their lockers. He could make small talk about the weather or the terrible food they served in the cafeteria. It had been so long since Kurt had any kind of interaction with a person who seemed to genuinely care about talking to him, that sometimes he actually craved it. But any time he thought about reaching out to Blaine, about accepting the proposal to be 'locker buddies', as absurd as that sounded, he would remember. His cut would sting, or a bully would call him a name as he passed by. Whatever it was, something would always remind him why he kept everyone at a distance; why he kept himself from leaving any track marks in Lima.

The reminder today was the letter in his bag. It was tucked inside a sealed number 10 regular envelope with the Parsons New School for Design logo boldly in the top left hand corner. It weighed almost nothing, but inside Kurt's bag it felt like it had the weight of a boulder. Inside the envelope was his future. It was a yes or a no as to whether or not Kurt got out of Lima on an airplane. Everything he'd been working towards since his dad died all came down to whatever was typed onto that piece of paper.

He hadn't slept much the night before. He'd spent hours just staring at the envelope, knowing that it would only take moments for him to open it and put himself out of his misery. He imagined what the letter would say. "_Dear Mr. Hummel_," it would start, "_We regret to inform you that your application to Parsons New School for Design has been rejected…_" The thought of Parsons rejecting him made his heart pound and his skin grown clammy. There wasn't enough money saved to make it in New York without Parsons; there was barely enough to make it with the school and the scholarship. Kurt listened to Uncle Tim's snoring crescendo as he slept in the next room, reminding Kurt of all of the reasons he needed to get to New York and exactly what being rejected would mean for him.

Kurt spent the other part of his sleepless night imagining what it would mean if the letter read a little differently. "_Dear Mr. Hummel,"_ it would start, "_Congratulations! I am pleased to inform you of your early admission to Parsons New School for Design for the fall semester, 2012._" These daydreams caused Kurt's heart to swell and his skin to vibrate with excitement. He imagined first thing he would do was call the admissions office and formally accept his admission. He wondered if he could book his plane ticket eight months in advance. He imagined what it would be like getting off the plane in New York, two bags to his name and a couple hundred dollars in his pocket. Exploring the city wouldn't cost a penny and Kurt imagined that he would spend hours during the summer walking through the city, gaping up at the skyscrapers, learning to call this new place his home. Finally finding one after all those years.

But now, in Lima, the letter sat unopened inside Kurt's bag. He'd find somewhere quiet later that day to open the letter. Uncle's Tim's house already had enough bad memories. If Kurt didn't get in, he didn't want to add another to the list.

* * *

Blaine's first competition as male lead of New Directions goes a lot better than he imagined it would.

For starters, _they won_.

Blaine had only been with them for a couple of months, and when Rachel explained to him that sometimes they were a little…dysfunctional, Blaine just thought that she meant they didn't always get along. And he'd seen it happen a few times during rehearsals; it was common. But what Blaine wasn't prepared for was Santana shouting at Rachel in Spanish. Blaine still wasn't sure what set Santana off, and he had to fight back a smile as Sam, Quinn, and Mike held the Latina back while Rachel stood frozen, silent, and dare he say it, scared. It was both frightening and entertaining to watch.

But the moment Mr. Shuester walked into the room, breaking up the arguments before giving a speech about perseverance and hard work, the dynamic of the entire room changed. Like a switch had been flipped, everyone was focused and moments later everyone was on stage performing as single unit as passionately as they had been just been arguing. The whole thing was so foreign to Blaine. The Warblers had been more relaxed, there was never really any fighting. But by the time they got back on the bus, winners, they were hugging and singing and loving each other like a family. And that was something Blaine was used to.

Blaine sat with Rachel on the way home. While he'd made friends with everyone else in the club, it was Rachel that he felt the closest to despite their slightly over the top introduction. She placed her head on his shoulder as the bus traveled back toward McKinley.

"Why do all the best guys in my life turn out to love other boys?" Rachel asked.

Blaine laughed, "I don't love any boys."

"You know what I mean," Rachel said snuggling closer to Blaine, "You two would make a lovely couple."

"Who?" Blaine said turning his head down to look at Rachel.

"Kurt, silly," Rachel said looking not at Blaine but at nothing in front of her, the tears filling her eyes, "Your personalities really complement each other."

"You're ruining our celebration with your tears," Blaine said playfully nudging Rachel with his shoulder, ignoring her comments.

"I'd give it all up if Kurt were back here with us," Rachel said and Blaine could hear the crack in her voice.

"Kurt was in Glee?" Blaine questioned. He knew little about Kurt but he never pegged him for a performer.

"Yep," Rachel said looking up at Blaine, "He sings like an angel. His passion is fashion, but he was my only real competition in this club."

"But now you've got me," Blaine said as a miserable attempt to find the silver lining in Rachel's heartbreak.

"Now, I've got you," Rachel said wrapping her arms around Blaine's bicep and pressing her face into his shirt.

"I know you miss him," Blaine said pressing his cheek to the top of Rachel's head.

"Sometimes," Rachel said wiping away the single tear that had fallen down her cheek, "When I see him I miss him. When I want to watch Funny Girl for the one thousandth time and Mercedes won't watch with me, I miss him. Sometimes I forget I used to have a best friend named Kurt Hummel. But then I remember and it's like I've lost him all over again."

"Do you think you'll ever stop missing him all together?"

Rachel sighed, "Next year I'll be in New York. I have no idea where he'll be, but I like to think it'll be easier to forget him if the memory of him gets lost in a crowd of a million New Yorkers."

They're both quiet after that tucked into their seat together as the rest of New Directions started a Disney sing-a-long in the front of the bus.

* * *

Kurt wasn't exactly sure what brought him to the auditorium. He'd come during lunch and sat on the lip of the stage, his feet dangling over the edge. He sat there, leaning back on his hands, looking around at the empty auditorium. The space was nothing more than an empty stage and empty chairs, but there were so many memories swirling around him. Maybe that was what brought Kurt there in the first place. Part of it was the quiet, solitude that it provided. But the other part, was because it had once been a home to Kurt, a place he felt safe.

He'd joined New Directions his freshman year at Rachel's insistence, and for the almost two years that Kurt was part of the group, he'd spent countless hours standing on the currently barren stage. Even before everything started getting bad with Uncle Tim, Kurt had felt like he'd lost the last of his family when his dad died. Uncle Tim wasn't the most affectionate of people and he'd barely known him before he gained custody of Kurt, so Kurt always felt like Uncle Tim was more of a babysitter than a member, the only living member, of his family. By the time New Directions had made it through their first sectionals competition, Kurt felt it. He could feel that the twelve of them had quickly become a family, his family.

But things had changed. Kurt pushed away the heavy feeling in his chest and focused on why he'd gone into the auditorium in the first place. There were less than two hundred days left until he could escape, until Lima became nothing more than a distant memory and there was not a single thing that could make him look back. But first he had to open the letter.

Kurt sat up and grabbed his school bag that had been sitting next to him. He reached inside and pulled out the envelope that had been sitting in there since morning, taunting him. He held the envelope in his hands for a moment, studying it. He recited wishes over and over in his head. Wishes that something inside the letter would shine just a bit of light on his future. He wished that inside was acceptance from the college of his dreams. He wished for the contents of the letter to carry him out of Lima.

Kurt ripped at the seal not carrying that the paper of the envelope's once smooth edges now were ragged and in pieces. He pulled the letter out carefully, took a deep breath and unfolded the trifold page.

"_Dear Mr. Hummel,"_ it began, "_Thank you for applying to Parsons New School of Design. The Admissions Committee has reviewed all applicants and we regret that we are unable to offer you admission at this time. However, given your impressive portfolio we would like to offer you a place on our waiting list._"

Kurt read the words over and over, trying to figure out exactly what they meant. He'd only ever considered the answer from Parsons to be yes or no. He'd never even thought about the kind of, sort of, maybe response he'd gotten. All he needed now was someone to pass up the chance to go to Parsons. And only an idiot would pass up admission into Parsons; they might as well have told him no. But the words 'waiting list' gave the slightest bit of hope. Like maybe someone would get hit by a bus and then the spot would be open. Like there was some person out there who had to make the biggest mistake of their lives, just so that Kurt could take the only chance he had at making something of himself.

Kurt took a deep breath, blowing it out his lips. There was nothing to celebrate over, but he kept his emotions neutral. There was nothing more he could do but wait. His future was now out of his control. Kurt stood up as he heard the bell ringing outside the auditorium walls. He'd just go on like he planned. Get through the school year and then he'd be out of there one way or another. He'd just have to wait a little longer until he figured it out for sure.

Kurt pulled himself up off the stage floor, the letter from Parsons still in his hand. Just as he turned around, he heard the soft tap of shoes against the hardwood floors of the stage and humming coming from somewhere behind the giant red curtain. Kurt froze for a moment, and then relaxed when he recognized the head of perfectly gelled hair. It was Blaine. The familiar feeling to run washed over Kurt as Blaine turned around and noticed him, shocked to see the other boy, but with a kind smile on his face. Something unfamiliar replaced Kurt's flight instinct. It was new and it terrified Kurt. So he chose to ignore it.

"Hi," Blaine said taking a few steps closer to Kurt, "What are you doing here?"

Kurt bit down on his bottom lip, silent, but looking Blaine in the eyes. They're an enchanting hazel and Kurt feels immediately that they are accepting. That even though Kurt has spent the last two and a half months trying to avoid Blaine, Blaine was still willing to engage Kurt in a conversation with only a hint of hostility and the kindest eyes. A moment later there was a flash of rejection in those same eyes.

"Right," Blaine said turning around. Kurt wasn't going to give in at all.

"Sorry," Kurt muttered, a red hue spreading through his cheeks from his guilt. Blaine turned back around to look at the boy. Kurt was surprised at how easy it was despite the awkwardness and the fact that Kurt had obviously just hurt Blaine's feelings, Blaine's eyes remained unchanged. Kurt took a deep breath, "I came here to hide from all the noise out there. It's peaceful in here. "

"It is," Blaine said. When Kurt didn't show any further signs of avoidance, Blaine asked a question, "What are you hiding from?"

"Everything," Kurt answered after a moment, shrugging his shoulders "I just needed some place no one would find me."

"I found you," Blaine said.

And maybe that was Kurt's biggest problem with Blaine. Kurt had been perfectly content with getting lost in the crowd of self-involved teenagers. Kurt was fine that the only attention he managed to get were from giant jocks who got bored when Kurt refused to play their game; to feed their egos by showing any sort of emotion. Getting lost in the crowd was what Kurt had wanted, he'd planned for it. This was the way he wanted it to be, at least until he got to New York. When he got there the sky was the limit, but until then he could still be himself, just by himself.

"Yes, but you always keep showing up when all I want is for you to disappear," Kurt said bitterly.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said.

"Look Blaine," Kurt said, "I know you probably think that I'm the rudest person on the planet. But there are a lot of things that you don't know about me. Thank you for being so kind, but I'm just not interested in what you're trying to do."

Blaine wasn't sure what the right words were to respond to that, but he noticed the envelope in Kurt's hand and looking up at Kurt, "Parsons?"

"Wha-," Kurt started before noticing Blaine gesturing at the envelope in Kurt's hand, "Oh. I applied for early admission."

"Did you get in?" Blaine asked.

"Wait listed," Kurt said simply; like it wasn't the most important decision that someone else ever made regarding his life.

"Oh, that sucks. Good luck, but that's what back up plans are for right?" Blaine commented oblivious.

"Yeah," Kurt said softly.

"Uh," Blaine said looking around, "Rachel will be here any second. We're rehearsing for regionals during lunch."

"Weren't sectionals just this past weekend?"

"Well Rachel's really…" Blaine said pausing for moment to find the right word.

"Intense," Kurt said. He knew his former best friend more than anyone.

"Definitely," Blaine said laughing.

Before Kurt could think about it, the corners of his mouth were being pulled upward slightly into the most Blaine had ever seen him smile. It was like Blaine was seeing a whole different person. As if the slightest smile had transformed Kurt from the boy he was now, to the best friend Rachel had told Blaine of. There was a hint of a sparkle, a fire from somewhere within, inside Kurt's eye. And then Rachel was calling for Blaine somewhere backstage, and then suddenly it was gone. It was as if the glimpse of the fire that burned inside Kurt had been drenched by the sound of the tiny brunette's voice.

"I'll see you later," Kurt said, scolding himself for it a moment later as he walked swiftly from the auditorium before Rachel had a chance to see him.

* * *

Friday afternoon Blaine was at his locker between classes. All he needed to do was get through Chemistry, and then English and then he could head home. There was a small group of New Directions members who were going to the movies and then out to Breadstix and Blaine was looking forward to it. Blaine had just shut his locker, spinning the dial to secure the lock, when Kurt walked up to the locker beside his. Kurt had been absent from school the day before and they hadn't been at their lockers at the same time all day. Blaine glanced over at Kurt; taking in how tired the boy looked; as if even a day at home hadn't given him a chance to rest. There was a slight puffiness underneath his eyes.

"You weren't here yesterday," Blaine said. It was a statement but Kurt could hear the million questions buried inside it. _Why_ weren't you here? Are you alright?

Kurt looked at Blaine as if to say 'obviously', but didn't say a word. He had stayed home from school the day before, calling himself in by dropping his voice about an octave and staying locked in his room the entire day. Wednesday had been a particularly bad day with Uncle Tim. Kurt was greeted his very angry Uncle when he returned home from school. The older man had had a job interview that afternoon and Kurt assumed it hadn't gone well because Uncle Tim was angry; and once again, it was all Kurt's fault. As far as bad days could go, this one was mild. There were a couple of bruises hidden beneath Kurt's layers of clothing, but Uncle Tim had managed a forceful slap across Kurt's cheek. It was much easier to hide red marks than bruises with concealer, but Kurt really wasn't prepared for the questions, specifically Blaine's questions, if he showed up to school with a slightly swollen face.

"So," Blaine continued despite Kurt's silence, "I figured I would tell you now instead of you finding out later; but we've been paired together for the English assignment."

"What English assignment?" Kurt asked panicked.

"The one that was assigned yesterday while you weren't here."

"Oh," Kurt responded, "And you didn't pair with anyone else?"

Blaine shrugged, "No one wants to partner with the new kid."

Kurt sighed.

"I know this isn't ideal for you," Blaine said, "And I heard what you said the other day in the auditorium. But we've got to do this."

After a moment of silence Kurt looked at Blaine, "Fine. I'm tired of trying to convince you that I'm an asshole, because it's clearly not working."

Blaine smiled proudly.

"But that's all this is going to be," Kurt said gesturing with his pointer finger between himself and Blaine, "A working relationship that will dissolve as soon as the project is turned in. And then I promise not to act like such a jerk when we're at our lockers."

Blaine smiled, "Deal. So you're house or mine?"

Kurt realized then that staying out later after school meant there would be a greater chance of Uncle Tim being drunk or angry when he returned home. Maybe he could sneak in his window and convince Uncle Tim that he'd been home all along and he never saw him. Kurt had the entire weekend to figure that out.

"The Lima Bean," Kurt said thinking of the first meeting place he could think of that was close to home, "or the library. It's your choice but The Lima Bean has much better coffee."

"Lima Bean it is. Start Monday after school?"

Kurt nodded despite the fact that he had no idea how he was going to pull it off. It was quite possible that an A on this assignment was going to cost him more than the passing grade was worth, but he knew that he didn't have a choice, it was Blaine's grade too. The warning bell rang pulling Kurt from his frantic thoughts and back towards Blaine who was smiling like always.

"I'll see you in class," Blaine said before following merging into the sea of students who were moving frantically down the hallway towards class.

Kurt stood still next to his locker, his mind racing so fast he could hardly keep up. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he would just have to deal with it like he'd done everything else in the last year and a half; face it head on. And countdown the days until he could escape.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Thank you lovely people for reading, reviewing, etc. If there wasn't anyone paying attention I probably would have let this fic just sit in my head. I wish I could get updates out faster, but it just depends on free time and with two jobs it's sometimes hard. But I love you if you're sticking with me!

So, we'll start with another flashback! Warning for violence. R&R!

* * *

_Kurt had always been a fan of the dramatic. He always assumed that when he buried his father, not that it was something he actually thought about, the sun would be hidden behind thick grey clouds and the streets would be slick with rain. There would be a large gathering of people huddled and sobbing around a rectangular hole in the ground as they lowered the casket in the ground. A somber atmosphere for the day he put the most important person in his life to rest._

_But there was none of that. _

_The day Kurt buried his father, it was cool and the sun was shining like it was just an ordinary Wednesday in October. Kurt imagined that for everyone but himself, it was. Everyone else was going about their day while Kurt had been shaken awake that morning by the Berrys, in Rachel's bed, and had silently and obediently gotten dressed in an all-black ensemble before driving with the Berrys to the church were they walked silently up the aisle and sat down in the first pew. Kurt felt like a robot. Walking through a fog, unsure of where he was, and doing exactly what he was told. The other pews held a sea of semi-familiar faces. People from around the neighborhood, the mechanics from his dad's shop and a couple of buddies he used to go to high school with that still lived in the area. But that was it. There was not a single member of his family there because there was not a single member of his family left. His mom had died in a car accident six years before, and now his father, the most important person in his life, was gone too. And he was left with no one. _

_No one, except Rachel. It was Rachel who kept a firm grip on his hand the entire time the priest was speaking. Rachel, who held him close when he'd fallen apart the night before. Rachel, his best friend, and her amazing dads who had taken him in when his father was rushed to the hospital. They'd been with him ever since, and for the last eight years, if Kurt thought about it. He and Rachel always bragged how they were the luckiest kids in the world; they each got three amazing dads. _

_After watching them lower the casket that held his father into the ground, Kurt followed silently as the Berrys hosted a luncheon for everyone who had attended the service. Kurt just sat quietly on the Berry's couch, watching the people around him. He had no idea what was going to happen to him once the day was over. Would they (whoever they were) let him live with the Berrys? They told him that if it was an option they wouldn't hesitate to take it. It would be what Burt would want them to do. And his was practically like a son anyway. What were the options otherwise? Foster care? There were another four years until he was old enough to have control over his own life so if they told him he had to do something, he had to do it. _

_Kurt was lost in his thoughts when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. Pulling himself from his thoughts, Kurt looked up to see the hand belonged to Hiram Berry who was smiling down at him, standing next to a man who looked vaguely familiar. The man next to Hiram was tall with brown hair that, if you asked Kurt, was too long as it sat in a shaggy mess on top of his head. Kurt guessed the man was probably in his mid-thirties because the last time Kurt had seen his him he had been about five and the older male had just graduated from college (about two years later than he should have). _

"_Kurt," Hiram said, "someone is here to see you."_

_Kurt looked up at the other man and noticed that he looked absolutely terrified. His eyes were wide and his skin looked about the same color as Kurt's, only a little more green. Kurt could see Uncle Tim's entire body quivering underneath his black three-piece suit. _

"_Hi Kurt," the man said his voice small and unsure, "You don't remember me do you?"_

_Kurt shook his head, "No, I do. You're my dad's brother. Uncle Tim."_

"_Yeah," Uncle Tim said nodding, his voice strained. _

"_Kurt, you're going to be living with your Uncle Tim from now on. He's just bought a house in Lima so that you can stay here and go to school with Rachel and your other friends."_

_The words thrust Kurt out of the fog he'd been in with full force, making his alert and absolutely terrified. _

"_But I thought I was going to stay with you?" Kurt said looking bewildered at Hiram. _

"_You're still welcome here anytime, Kurt. But as your only living relative, your Uncle Tim has agreed to be your guardian," Hiram said, "It would have been what your father would have wanted. You should be with family."_

'_No,' Kurt thought, 'this is not what Dad would've wanted.'_

_Kurt decided not to mention that Kurt had absolutely no familial feelings towards his uncle who, from what Kurt had been told and could remember, was the exact opposite of his father. Burt liked sports and cars and Tim liked money and girls. Kurt remembered a time when his dad actually told him that Uncle Tim was a playboy who had no desire to have a family; that Kurt should strive to be the exact opposite of his father's brother. ._

_But someone had contacted him after Burt's death and here he was in the Berry's living room, his legal guardian. Whatever that meant. Kurt just nodded because he wasn't sure what else he could do. _

_Living with Uncle Tim was awkward at first. Kurt and Uncle Tim were virtual strangers and it was clear that Uncle Tim had no idea how to raise a fourteen year old boy. In the beginning Kurt got gifts because it's Thursday, Uncle Tim not knowing how to support other than a monetary sense. _

_But one day things changed like a shift in the wind. It was sudden but it wasn't all at once. It started with the introduction to the rule that Kurt wasn't allowed to have friends, meaning Rachel, over. It didn't bother Kurt at first until the first bad day happened. When Kurt came into the house after an afternoon at the Berry's there was something different about the house; like the air carried something different within its invisible particles. Uncle Tim came into the room shouting about curfews and things not being clean. And as most teenagers did, Kurt lashed out, delivering sharp tongued responses to Uncle Tim until there a sting spread across Kurt's left cheek. Even after Uncle Tim's hand connected with Kurt's face, Kurt could feel where the forceful collision of force and flesh met his face. It was sure to be red for a while. _

_After that he disappeared into his room for the rest of the night and by morning everything seemed to be back how it was. But two weeks later Kurt walked in after school already angry because Karofsky had slushied him at school that day and no matter how hard he tried, he hadn't been able to rinse all the syrup from his hair. He wanted to shower and get some sketching done before bed. But when he walked through the front door, Uncle Tim pounced on him like he'd been waiting all day just for Kurt to come through the door. _

_Uncle Tim started shouting at Kurt, accusing him of taking the watch Kurt's grandfather had given him. Kurt had never even seen the watch, but stayed quiet as Uncle Tim became more irrational, shouting about dishes in the sink and when Kurt's eyes flickered towards the sink, he noticed the line of empty beer bottles on the counter next to the stove. As Uncle Tim moved closer to Kurt, Kurt could smell the retched stench of the alcohol on Uncle Tim's breath. He wanted to vomit. How long had Uncle Tim been home? How much had he had to drink? _

_The next thing Kurt comprehended was that two very strong arms were on his shoulders and he was being pushed backwards, his back crashing into the banister. Kurt bit back the pain and the words he wanted to throw at Uncle Tim. Especially when Uncle Tim's fist hit Kurt right beneath his right eye. In the morning it would be swollen shut, a hideous combination of purple and blue hues. Suddenly Kurt was a punching bag for whatever anger Uncle Tim had let fester. Kurt did his best to protect himself, shielding his face with his arms once Uncle Tim moved to lower parts of his body. And then the blows stopped. Kurt moved his arms away from his face slowly and through the eye he could still see out of noticed that Uncle Tim was no longer in the room and a second later his bedroom door slammed shut. _

_That was the two weeks Kurt stayed home sick with mono. It was the first thing he could think of that would keep Rachel away (to protect her voice) and give him enough time to let most of the swelling go down. _

_Going back to school, Kurt tried to pretend like everything was okay. He tried to pretend that he never left his room while Uncle Tim was home. He tried to pretend that hadn't gotten the shit beaten out of him by the person who was in charge of providing for him and had spent the last two weeks nursing various injuries. He couldn't pretend he wasn't absolutely terrified. But he didn't say anything and when Rachel noticed one of the bruises on his arm, Kurt came up with a plan: Parsons, New York, and not a single thing that could keep him tied to Lima. He pushed away Rachel, left Glee club and became focused on one thing. _

_Keeping himself alive._

* * *

The first thing Kurt noticed when Blaine arrived at his locker Monday morning was that Blaine seemed frustrated. He turned the dial on his locker like it had personally offended him and the rest of his body seemed tense. Normally, Blaine was too chipper for Kurt's liking, so seeing Blaine clearly bothered was very off putting to Kurt.

"What's wrong?" Kurt questioned before he could really think about it. He'd spent too much time over the weekend trying to figure out how he would act around Blaine. He'd ultimately decided that since they were meeting after school twice a week to work on their project for English, there really was no point of trying to ignore him anymore.

Blaine let out an exaggerated sigh and turned to look at Kurt, "We might need to rearrange our schedule for this project after this week."

"And why is that?"

"Because this morning I was greeted by Rachel with this," Blaine said lifting a piece of pink paper so that it was eye level to Kurt who could smell the perfume coming from the page that he knew Rachel added the moment it came out of the printer, "It's our rehearsal schedule from now until Regionals. Nationals actually, but we have to get that far first."

"That's Rachel," Kurt said pushing away the feeling of longing for his former best friend, and the feelings of jealousy he had towards Blaine for getting to spend time with Rachel. But he suddenly felt nothing but guilt because he had no one to blame for that except himself.

"So we're going to have to move to either Tuesday or Wednesday next week," Blaine said, "Because next Monday I have dance rehearsal until 'to be announced…'.

"That sounds absolutely horrible," Kurt said pitying Blaine and the rest of New Directions then turning back to his locker ready to sit through another boring Calculus lecture when the uneasy feeling that he was being watched washed over him. He turned his head slightly to see Blaine's hazel eyes watching him curiously.

"What?" Kurt asked frantically touching his face "Is there something on my face?"

"What—No" Blaine said laughing, "Y-You asked me what was wrong."

"Yeah," Kurt said elongating his vowels like it was nothing. But he knew why Blaine was commenting. He knew that Friday morning Kurt had been nothing but hostile towards Blaine and now he was being civil, friendly even. But he needed to make a point so Blaine wasn't expecting something different, "Don't read too deep into it Blaine. There isn't anything there."

"I'm going to make me your friend if it's the last thing I do Kurt Hummel."

"When you say it like that it sounds absolutely petrifying."

Blaine went to tease that, given the chance, being friends with Blaine would be the best thing he'd ever done, but he never got the chance. He was interrupted by the arrival of both Karofsky and Azimio. The two football players just stood there, silently watching, both Kurt and Blaine while flashing superior grins.

"Can we help you gentleman?" Blaine said noticing Kurt's eyes widen with fear at Blaine's brazen act. Apparently no one every stood up to those two.

"Yeah, you can," Azimio said, "You can stop being so gay."

Blaine smacked his lips together, "Not something either of us decided so I'm not sure we just stop. Sorry," Blaine said ending with a broad smile. Kurt just watched astonished by Blaine's smug demeanor.

"Listen here," Karofsky interjected, "I don't know who you think you are talking to us like that. And if my memory serves me correctly Zee, this is the second time this here fairy boy has mouthed off to us. Do I need to introduce him to the Fury?"

Karofsky raised his fist and took a step towards Blaine. Blaine didn't flinch and Karofsky's fist never made contact with any flesh. Blaine just laughed, loud, and in a way that Kurt had never seen anyone react to Karofsky, or when they were about to get punched in the face.

"Do it," Blaine uttered.

"Blaine!" Kurt said worried.

"No, Kurt," Blaine said without taking his eyes away from Karofsky, "If these guys have a problem with us having a simple conversation and feel the need to hit me for it, by all means let them."

Blaine's eyes were locked with Karofsky's, the bigger boy still posed to strike. Kurt's heart was beating rapidly in his chest, fearful that Karofsky would result to actually hitting Blaine simply because Blaine egged him on, provoking the football player to using his fists. In all the years that Karofsky had bullied him, he'd never once hit Kurt with his fist. Sure he'd been pushed into more lockers than he could count, but he'd never been stricken by the force of what Karofsky called 'The Fury'.

The warning bell rang and after a moment, Karofsky stepped back and lowered his fist.

"You got luck this time, homo," Karofsky spit and a moment later he and Azimio were gone.

"Are you insane?" Kurt questioned, practically screaming.

"What?" Blaine said.

"He was going to hit you," Kurt said, "and you practically begged him to."

"He wasn't going to hit me."

"You don't know that."

"Then he would have hit me," Blaine said shrugging, "I've dealt with worse."

"You've just painted a large bull's-eye your back, Blaine. He's not going to leave you alone," Kurt said, "God, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Blaine questioned.

"They only targeted you because you were talking to me. I seem to be their favorite."

"You honestly believe that, Kurt?"

It was Kurt's turn to shrug.

"They would have harassed me whether I was talking to you or not. But don't worry about me, I can handle it."

The final bell rang and both Kurt and Blaine were going to be late to class.

"I'll meet you at The Lima Bean right after school?" Blaine asked as he began his trek, backwards, down the almost empty hallway.

Kurt nodded and watched as Blaine turned and walked quickly down the hallway, before Kurt did the same.

* * *

"We need to talk about the witches."

"Is the bullying bad?" Blaine asked ignoring Kurt's attempt to get them to focus on their Macbeth project, "Like, I've seen some things but is that it? Is that as bad as it gets?"

"Blaine, if you're worried about what they'll do to you—"

"It's not that," Blaine said, "I'm just curious."

Kurt eyed Blaine suspiciously but sighed in resignation, "That's…most of it. I used to get thrown in the dumpster a couple of times a week, but they seem to have moved on from that. But there are always the slushies."

"Slushies?"

"Slushies. Gigantic cups full of frigid sugary slush that gets thrown right at your face," Kurt explained, "I'm actually surprised I haven't gotten a facial yet. Great…now I've just jinxed myself. I'll have to make sure I've got my extra clothes tomorrow. You should start bringing them too."

"Noted."

They're quiet for a little while, both of them focusing on the list of topics that they needed to cover for their report. Blaine would occasionally flip through his copy of Macbeth looking for something to quote in their paper, but otherwise, it was silent.

"When did it start for you?" Kurt asked startling Blaine from whatever train of thought he was having, "The bullying, I mean."

"Uh," Blaine contemplated, "ten? It was right after my tenth birthday. Right around the time I realized I was …different."

"Wow," Kurt said surprised.

"You?"

"Six?"

"Six!" Blaine said like it was the most absurd thing anyone had ever said.

"I was obviously different at an early age," Kurt mentioned.

"That had to be hard."

"I managed alright," Kurt told Blaine, "But then I met Rachel and we were kind of a team. They made fun of her for having two dads and always correcting their horrible grammar, and I was too much like a girl."

"It bet it was great to have Rachel."

"I'm sure she told you both of my parents are dead," Kurt quickly said suddenly.

Blaine sat back in his seat, his eyes wide, "Oh, wow. No, she didn't. I'm sorry to hear that, Kurt."

"Oh," was all that managed to escape Kurt's lips. Kurt had fully believed that Rachel had given Blaine some kind of biographical explanation to Kurt and that Blaine now had a few assumptions about Kurt.

"Rachel and I haven't really talked _about_ you," Blaine said knowing that wasn't entirely true. Though most of their discussions were about Rachel's side of her former friendship with Kurt, "I know that you and her used to be best friends; and now you're not."

"Oh."

"Why is that by the way?" Blaine said smiling gleefully. As if his smile would distract Kurt from the question at hand.

"No. Nope." Kurt said, "That is not a question that locker buddies –slash–English partners ask."

'So you're finally agreeing to it?"

"I don't really have a choice. But questions like that don't qualify for our…partnership."

"Ah," Blaine said, "Got it."

They went back to the comfortable quiet that had enveloped them before. Well, Kurt wasn't really concentrating on his work, but what would happen when he got home, almost three hours later than he should have. He left his window open a crack just in case he decided it was best to try to climb inside that way, but there was no telling whether or not Uncle Tim had gotten into his room already, and what the state of it might be when he realized that Kurt wasn't inside. But his thoughts of fear regarding Uncle Tim are replaced by something that makes him freeze, but for a completely different reason. Kurt didn't look up at Blaine but he was almost certain that it was Blaine's foot that was tapping beneath the table, brushing against the side of Kurt's leg. Kurt wasn't even sure Blaine realized what he was doing until Kurt's foot moved towards Blaine's knocking into boot into Blaine's loafers and he felt Blaine stop his rhythmic tapping. Kurt kept his eyes focused on the book in front of him, but he could tell that Blaine wasn't looking at him either. He was glad. Because it meant he had time to try and hide the blush that had crept up his cheeks and he was sure that any words that came out of his mouth at the moment was going to be nothing more than gibberish.

These feelings were new, but Kurt knew what he thought they were. The flutter in his chest, the blushing at slightest touches; those were the signs of a crush. But Kurt Hummel did not have a crush. No, he was simply confusing the feelings of (regrettably) friendship he was feeling towards Blaine for something different. He was introduced to the first other openly gay boy he'd probably ever meet in Lima and as soon as Blaine went away, so would the feelings. But there was still another half an hour before Kurt would be leaving The Lima Bean and his desire for Blaine's absentminded foot tapping again his ankle to return was becoming overwhelming.

This was going to be a problem.

* * *

Kurt was absolutely shocked when he walked through the front door of Uncle Tim's after his study session with Blaine, to find Uncle Tim, sitting in front of the TV looking a little bit more put together than he had been since he lost his job. At first, Kurt just stood in the doorway, watching Uncle Tim who was intensely focused on the football game. When the older man didn't even acknowledge Kurt's presence, he hurried into the kitchen, moving as carefully and quietly as possible as if not to burst whatever bubble had kept Uncle Tim from noticing him. He made a quick sandwich for himself and then after grabbing a couple bottles of water from the fridge, he hurried to his bedroom.

Kurt spent some time doing his other homework before changing into pajamas and climbing into bed with his sketch pad. It wasn't until he was almost done with his sketch that he realized that what he'd drawn was actually a sketch of the outfit that Blaine had worn to school that day. It had only been a pair of grey slacks with a plaid v-neck sweater. Kurt sighed and put his sketchbook down frustrated. He wished he had someone to talk to about Blaine, about Rachel, about everything. He wished his dad was there to tell him that everything would be alright. But Kurt knew that if his dad were still around, everything would be alright. He would have Rachel and he could talk to her about how absolutely adorable Blaine was and maybe he could be more open to forming something more with him. If he'd just open himself up, he could have a manageable life in Lima. But there were eight months left until he turned eighteen. Eight months until he had to escape from everything.

He lay down on top of his comforter, too tired to seek the warmth and support that it could give him. He glanced at the picture next to his bed. The one of his mom and dad the day of their wedding. They're smiling and Kurt thought for a moment, just a moment, that that could be him someday. He fell asleep dreaming of the future, surprised when a boy with beautiful hazel eyes made a cameo.

When he woke up, Kurt realized that keeping his distance from Blaine was going to be harder than he'd imagined.


	6. Chapter 6, Part 1

AN: Not much to say other than thank you to everyone whose reading this. The song used in this chapter is Echo by Jason Walker. I think they speak to the way Kurt is feeling in regards to Blaine and the life he's been living since Burt died.

Anyway, enjoy! And let me know what you think!

* * *

_I don't wanna be an island  
I just wanna feel alive and  
get to see your face again__  
I don't wanna be an island  
I just wanna feel alive and  
get to see your face again_

Tuesday afternoons were the only day that Rachel didn't make New Directions practice in the auditorium all afternoon, so it was that day that Kurt and Blaine met at The Lima Bean after school to work on their Macbeth project. It was not a thrilling display, just two boys sitting at a table surrounded by notebooks and binders and the works of William Shakespeare. Sometimes they went long periods of time without talking or looking at each other each engrossed in textbooks and reference material they needed to use.

Kurt hadn't yet figured out how to deal with his feelings in regards to Blaine. He tried hard to keep his face neutral, but lately he seemed to be hyperaware of Blaine's presence and the fluttering somewhere inside his chest that came with it. He'd pushed Rachel and the other people out of his life for a reason. It should've been the same for Blaine. They'd known each other for three months, and Kurt had spent most of that time trying his hardest to keep Blaine as far away as possible. So why now? Why now did that little piece of Kurt that felt drawn to Blaine exist?

The worst part was that Kurt had no idea how Blaine was feeling. There was nothing worse than putting yourself out on the line only to be rejected by a shorter, yet absolutely adorable boy who usually happened to be everywhere that you were. So Kurt held his tongue on this particular Tuesday, sitting at their table at The Lima Bean (yes, the little blonde barista had officially dubbed the table as_ theirs_) trying his hardest to ignore the way that Blaine's brow scrunched together when he didn't understand the Shakespearian language. Or the way he liked to chew on his pen caps.

"What do you draw?" Blaine said a couple of minutes later after putting his book down with a sigh.

"What?" Kurt said looking up from his book to find Blaine watching him with questioning eyes.

"I always see you drawing in English," Blaine explained, "And you carry that sketchbook everywhere."

"Oh," Kurt said placing his hand on top of the sketchbook that had been sitting on top of a pile of reference books, "uh, they're fashion designs."

"Oh, wow!" Blaine exclaimed, "When Rachel said your passion was fashion, and you said you had applied to Parsons, I thought that meant you were good at dressing yourself. Which you clearly are, "Blaine said gesturing towards Kurt, "but I thought it meant putting other people's clothes onto the fashionably challenged; not that you were designing your own line."

"So you two do talk about me?" Kurt questioned.

"Not as much as you think," Blaine said with a slight smile, "Can I see?"

"Really?" Kurt asked throwing Blaine a curious look.

"My passion lies in performing, not fashion. You don't have to worry about me stealing your designs. I'm just curious if you're willing to show them."

"It's not that—"

"Plus, I think it'll be cool in ten years to say that I saw a Kurt Hummel original before it cost one hundred dollars in a boutique somewhere in New York City."

Kurt blushed, but opened to the first sketch inside his pad. He'd never shown anyone his sketches before. Well, except Rachel, of course, but she had been obligated, as his best friend, to ooh and aah at the appropriate things, no matter how good, or bad, Kurt's designs really where. But Blaine? Blaine wasn't under any obligation to like his work. He assumed that Blaine would be polite, but Kurt couldn't predict what Blaine's thoughts would be. Kurt handed the pad to Blaine, hesitantly, as if he was giving away his most treasured possession. And in a way, he was. It wasn't anywhere near complete; he'd started on it the night before. But he really loved the direction it was going. It was man's outfit. There was no color but the sketch consisted of a pair of slacks, that Kurt imagined would be a light grey; a plaid short sleeved button down, suspenders, and to top it all off, a bowtie. Kurt had imagined it would be green because Kurt had drawn it picturing Blaine as the one who would model it. The green would make Blaine's eyes sparkle just a little bit more than usual. Kurt watched as Blaine examined the sketch, hoping that Blaine wouldn't realize the fact that the sketch was drawn based on Blaine's own fashion sense.

"Your silence is absolutely terrifying," Kurt said folding his hands as if he were praying and placed them against his lips.

Blaine smiled and looked up to meet Kurt's eyes, "Don't be scared. They're good. I mean, I'm not exactly the most informed on these kinds of things, but I like them."

Kurt moved his hands away from his lips and smiled as he felt his heart expanding in his chest.

"Thanks," Kurt finally managed to mutter.

It was like Blaine's interest and approval in what Kurt had created meant as much to him as it would have had Alexander McQueen given him two thumbs up from the afterlife.

* * *

It had been in his bag all day. Another standard white envelope with the Parsons, New School for Design logo stamped on the top left corner. Kurt had tried to find time to sneak into the auditorium to open it, but the second he opened the door, he could hear Rachel and Tina rehearsing. The sound of their voices, creating smooth harmonies, tugged at Kurt's heart and after a moment he pulled himself away from the door. So Kurt resigned to opening the letter at his locker. It was too public but it was better than the bathroom.

A million thoughts ran though his mind as he tore open the seal: _What if someone was actually stupid enough to reject Parsons? What if this was his acceptance? What if all they wanted was a donation? What if this broke his heart even further? _Regardless of what was inside, Kurt braced himself as he pulled the paper out and unfolded it.

"_Dear Mr. Hummel_," it began, "_We're pleased to inform you that you have been removed from the waiting list for the Fall 2012 enrollment and have been accepted to Parsons, New School for Design._"

Kurt eeped a little louder than he'd intended, looking around to see if he'd attracted anyone's attention. When he saw that he hadn't, his lips moved to a broad grin. By the time he finished the letter he had received a full scholarship and in that single moment, he felt like everything was finally falling into place.

_He'd done it.  
He'd made it.  
He was getting out…alive._

That thought ran through his mind on repeat and his entire body began to vibrate with joy so much so that he was certain everyone in the hallway could feel it too. Now there was something to look forward to. The light at the end of the dark tunnel he'd been living in since his dad died was finally in sight. Just eight more months. Eight more months and he was going to be out of Lima, in New York, and starting on the journey towards the rest of his life. He was finally on the path to the life where Lima, Ohio was nothing more than a bad ream where everything sucked.

"You look happy," Blaine said cheerily as he came up to his locker and spinning the lock.

"Parsons," Kurt said, his smile never falling, lifting up the letter, "I've been removed from the waiting list."

"Oh my god," Blaine said excited, "Kurt, that's amazing!"

Kurt had expected that reaction from Blaine. He'd expected Blaine to be genuinely, yet over-the-top, excited for Kurt. What hadn't expected was for Blaine to fling himself toward Kurt, his arms wrapping around Kurt's middle. Kurt didn't expect Blaine to say 'that's so exciting' right into his ear or the goose bumps it sent through his entire body. Or that without thinking, he dissolved into Blaine's embrace, wrapping his arms around the other boy and holding him close. He hadn't expected to like what he was feeling so much.

He was happy. And it was from a mixture of his acceptance letter, the fact that fate was finally on his side, most shockingly, Blaine. Somehow the fact that Kurt had gotten to share one of the best moments he'd had since his dad died with Blaine made Kurt dizzy. Now that Parsons and New York were finally figured out, Kurt felt like the biggest question mark in his life was sitting on top of Blaine. He'd spent so long trying to push everyone away, but when it came to Blaine, he couldn't keep himself from wanting to be around the boy. It was as if some unseen force was drawing Kurt to Blaine and there was absolutely nothing Kurt could do to stop it if he wanted to.

"We should celebrate," Blaine said pulling away, "Some of the glee kids are going to the movies tonight. You could come."

Kurt thought he saw something in Blaine's eyes as he invited Kurt out. He'd never been asked out before, but he thought for a moment that the way Blaine was suggesting he come out was as Blaine's date. He thought Blaine couldn't have possibly meant it like that, but Kurt's initial thought was to say yes. If he said yes, he could get his old life back. He could have his friends back, he could have Blaine. He could have everything he'd been longing for since the whole mess with Uncle Tim had started. But it was the thought of his uncle that turned Kurt's yes immediately to a no. He couldn't risk the backlash if Uncle Tim noticed he'd come home late. Instead, he'd spend his night in his room, probably sketching or working on homework. His life in Lima would never ben what he used to have. He could never get his friends back.

"I can't," Kurt said, "But thank you for asking."

"Are you sure?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt was glad that Blaine didn't ask him why he couldn't come, "Yeah."

"Okay, fine," Blaine said, "But then coffee is on me Tuesday."

Kurt smiled, "Deal."

* * *

Kurt stopped head in his tracks, his jaw hanging from its hinges when he saw him. It was like he'd just missed witnessing the committing of a crime, so instead he was just left with the aftermath. The carnage from this crime consisted of Blaine, his face covered in a mixture of slushed ice and red sugar water.

_Blaine had been slushied. _

Kurt knew that it would only be a matter of time before Karofsky and Azimio reinstated their afternoon slushie ritual, but Kurt had been certain that he would be their first target. But instead, it was Blaine who stood in front of their lockers, ice dripping down his face, looking utterly shocked and absolutely lost.

Kurt took a deep breath as he walked over to Blaine, the other boy still standing shocked, barely registering Kurt's presence. Kurt wrapped his fingers gently around Blaine's wrist and pulled him through the hallways until they reach the boy's bathroom. Luckily, class was about to start so the two stall, four urinal bathroom was empty.

Kurt moved Blaine over to the sink, turning the water on and waited until it was warm enough.

Kurt moved Blaine over to the sink and turned on the water, watching as Blaine rubbed furiously at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Kurt tested the water to make sure it was warm enough.

"Here," Kurt said grabbing Blaine by the shoulders and guiding him in front of the sink, "Rinse your eyes out. I'm sure they're burning."

Blaine did was Kurt told him, cupping the warm water in his hands them bringing it up to his face, rinsing the syrup from his eyes until he could finally see clearly again.

What he saw was Kurt, incredibly close, pulling chunks of colored from Blaine's wet hair. The gel had certainly become lose from the wetness of it all. Blaine groaned moving himself in front of the mirror, scowling at the sight. Curls had begun to come undone from his otherwise gelled down hair.

"You're going to have to wash it all out," Kurt said absentmindedly playing with one of Blaine's curls.

Kurt wondered if he was being too touchy with Blaine. They were only sort of friends and regardless of his absolutely confused feelings about Blaine, Kurt had no idea how Blaine felt. It was clear to Kurt that Blaine wanted to be his friend; but could Blaine want more than that? Kurt had been picking ice out of Blaine's hand, standing incredibly close to the other boys. Close enough to hold, close enough to _kiss. _The proximity was not lost on Kurt and his hands trembled just a bit as his fingers slide over Blaine's locks. Blaine hadn't shied away from Kurt's touch, so maybe, just maybe it was okay.

"Oh, no," Blaine said pulling away, eyes wide. Kurt hoped that Blaine missed him flinch at his movements. Maybe it was too much, "I didn't bring more hair gel and my hair is absolutely unreasonable without it."

"I doubt it's that bad Blaine," Kurt said, holding back the feeling of embarrassment until he figured out if Blaine had pulled away because of Kurt himself, or the idea of wearing his hair without gel, "Well you certainly can't go around with your hair the way it is now."

"This," Blaine said pointing to the top of his head, "is one hundred times better than my hair without gel."

Kurt didn't say a word, only directed a pointed look at Blaine before gesturing to the still running sink.

Ten minutes later, Blaine's hair had been rinsed of all of its gel and washed with the bottle of shampoo Kurt happened to have in his bag for situations just like this. Blaine's hair stuck, wet, to the top of his head and Kurt wondered why Blaine had made such a fuss about his hair being without gel. It wouldn't have looked like it always did, just like Blaine had taken a shower. Kurt pushed the very inappropriate thoughts that followed that from his head as Blaine ran the towel over his hair repeatedly and then stopped, but kept his hand with the towel on top of head.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt said resisting the urge to reach out and pull at Blaine's wrist as he urged Blaine to remove the towel from his head himself.

"Kurt, "Blaine began to whine before Kurt caught his eye with a look that told Blaine if he didn't remove the towel himself, Kurt would have to do it for him.

Slowly, Blaine lifted the towel from his head, exposing his hair. It was still damp, but Kurt could already see where tiny brown curls began to billow upward from the top of Blaine's head as it dried.

"It's not that bad," Kurt said.

"Wait until it's completely dry. You should see it in the summer when the humidity is high."

"I'll remember that come June," Kurt said.

But in June, Kurt would be long gone. He'd be in New York. Far away from everything Lima, including Blaine. Kurt watched as Blaine played with his hair in the mirror. He'd had a good couple of weeks, pretending that everything was close to the way it used to be. Before the bad days, before he had to keep himself away from everyone so they wouldn't be sucked into the black hole that was becoming his life, before he came to the conclusion that it was better that he leave Lima without a single thing tying him to the sad cow town. And while it was fun to pretend that something could happen between him and Blaine, the reality of it all was that it couldn't. They would finish their English project and then they would be the two boys whose lockers just happened to be next to the others.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked interrupting Kurt's thoughts. Kurt registered the hesitance in Blaine's voice as he eyed Kurt in the mirror.

"Yeah?" Kurt replied, his voice not as strong as he wished it would have been.

"Thank you," Blaine said softly, his voice cracking as the tears began to pool in his eyes.

Kurt's heart broke again as he watched a single tear trickle down Blaine's cheek. Not once since they'd entered the bathroom had either of them really addressed what had happened to Blaine. Kurt had been too busy trying to sort through his feelings about Blaine and Blaine was too busy washing the syrup from his stinging eyes. But now that things had finally settled down, Blaine had the chance to feel the emotions involved with taking his first slushie to the face, and Kurt knew from experience that this moment sucked. He understood that feeling of absolute worthlessness that was as overwhelming as the initial cold shock of the ice hitting your face.

Kurt smiled, "You're welcome."

* * *

When it came to what instigated Uncle Tim's bad days, it was usually Kurt's fault. Not really by something he did, but because of his mere existence. It always seemed to be in Uncle Tim's way of getting what he wanted. This time was no different. Kurt knew the moment he woke up that morning that something was off. There was something in the air that told him deep in his gut that something was going to go wrong. He'd spent the last three weeks going almost completely unnoticed by Uncle Tim. But it wasn't long before the bubble would pop. Kurt walked through the front door after his study sessions with Blaine as if everything was normal. As if Kurt wasn't constantly in fear of his alcoholic, abusive, uncle.

When Kurt walked through the front door, Uncle Tim wasn't in his chair and Kurt immediately froze. The older man's car was in the driveway and for a moment Kurt wondered if would find his bedroom once again destroyed out of rage. He forced himself to take two steps into the house and could see that his bedroom door was still shut. He was relieved for only a moment before Uncle Tim came staggered out of his own bedroom, clearly inebriated. The job interview he had apparently not gone as planned.

"Where have you been?" Uncle Tim asked sharply.

"I-I was out—um—I-I was working on a project for school w-with one of the k-kids in my class." Kurt answered struggling to control the quavering in his voice.

Most of what happened next passed in a blur to Kurt. He remembered the slap to the face, the way he backed into the kitchen to get some distance between himself and Uncle Tim. He remembered the punch to the face, something being thrown and the sound of glass shattering behind him. Whatever it was, when a punch to the gut knocked the wind from Kurt's lungs and he fell to the ground, a shard of it pierced through Kurt's shirt and through his skin, lodging itself into his side, his body recoiling in pain as a whimper escaped his lips. After that, Kurt remembered little else, the pain in his side the only focus. He was aware that he was bleeding and that Uncle Tim was above him, spitting hateful words in Kurt's direction.

And then suddenly it was over.


	7. Chapter 6, Part 2

**AN:** I'm only a little sorry I left you with the cliffhanger last time. :) Since this is more of a direct continuation of the last chapter, and shorter than usual, I've decided to just consider this the second part of Chapter 6. I'm going to get working on Chapter 7 here shortly. Follow me on twitter ( thatgleekychick) if you want a better idea of when updates will be coming! I really am working as fast as my creativity lets me.

Anyway Let me know what you think!

**PS:** 10 days until we get our show, and our boys, back!

* * *

Kurt lay there, trying to keep as still as possible. His ears were buzzing and his left side was throbbing. His eyes were closed, but no longer able to keep the tears from escaping and leaving trails as they ran down his cheeks. Because it _hurt_. He'd dealt with days like this before, _bad days_, but never before had Uncle Tim left him in the middle of the kitchen floor hurt, and, and Kurt felt something wet and sticky with his fingers, bleeding.

The silence around him signaled that Uncle Tim wouldn't be coming back any time soon. Kurt had no idea where his uncle had gone but Kurt thought he vaguely remembered the sound of the front door slamming. Taking a deep, painful, breath, Kurt winched as he pushed himself to a sitting position to examine the damage. There was a thick line of crimson staining the fabric toward the bottom of Kurt's shirt. Slowly, Kurt lifted his shirt and gasped at the sight of a rather large piece of the coffee cup Uncle Tim had thrown sticking out of his side. Kurt held his breath, grabbing onto the piece of porcelain and carefully pulling it out. It wasn't in there deep, but Kurt cried out softly as he let out a shaky breath as he felt the shard become removed from his body before he dropped it to the floor beside him, a fresh batch of tears falling from his eyes.

Using the top of the dishwasher, than the kitchen counter, for leverage, Kurt managed to push himself to his feet. Once he was vertical, Kurt looked down at his side again; the spot on his shirt had grown. Steadying himself, Kurt reached a bloody hand over and grabbed some paper towels off the rack, folding them over a few times before placing them underneath his shirt, applying pressure to his cut. With short steps while carefully listening for the sounds of Uncle Tim returning, Kurt walked himself into his bedroom.

Kurt shut the door to his bedroom and locked it behind him. He moved carefully to his dresser and pulled the first aid kit he had stored inside the top drawer. He moved to stand in front of the full length mirror next to his vanity. Carefully, Kurt removed his shirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Blood was still oozing from the cut on Kurt's side. He should've gone to the hospital. He should've called the police. But he didn't. Instead, he followed a procedure he'd done twice before: clean the wound, wrap it up, and repeat until there was nothing left but an ugly scar.

Once he was wrapped in his last bandage, Kurt padded slowly back to the kitchen, there was a mess than needed to be cleaned up. There was just a tiny smear of blood on the floor from where Kurt had been lying and shards of broken coffee mug. Kurt grabbed the broom from behind the refrigerator and tried, pathetically, to sweep up the broken bits with one arm, the other applying slight pressure to his side. When he got most of it off the floor Kurt grabbed rag from the drawer next to the sink, wet it, and then knelt down on the floor to wipe up his own blood from the linoleum.

Kurt changed into an old pair of pajamas, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He'd stopped crying somewhere during the first trip from the kitchen to the bedroom, but Kurt could feel how swollen and red and irritated they were. It was barely eight and he had a ton of homework he needed to finish but all he wanted to do was sleep. As he settled in, he lay flat on his back and staring up into dark, Kurt had never been more ready to leave Lima and everything behind him. There were only seven months until graduation. And by then the bleeding would have stopped and all that would be left would be a scar to remind himself of the past, and to push him harder towards his future.

* * *

Kurt couldn't manage to get himself to school the next day, or the day after. The bruising made it painful to bend over and move with the same grace as he was known to do. Plus while searching through his closet for a pair of boots, Kurt realized that he'd moved the wrong way and the fresh wound had started bleeding again and maybe a couple of days in bed would be for the best. Kurt talked himself twice out of the idea of super gluing his wound shut. But the thought of the scar being even uglier because Kurt had decided to mend it with such barbaric methods made him cringe more than the hideous sight that already tainted his sight. The only bright spot in spending two days as prisoner to his bedroom were the text messages from Blaine. Blaine had seemed concerned when Kurt wasn't at school the next day after their study session where he seemed just fine. But Kurt explained that he'd woken up with a migraine, two days in a row. Instead, Blaine sent Kurt snarky text messages about teachers which made Kurt smile while he worked on some new sketches.

So now he walked slowly through the halls of McKinley, deciding that one day in this hell was better than the one more where his Uncle Tim was home all the time. If he could get through the day without anyone paying him any attention then he could spend his weekend getting through the worst of it and by Monday he could pretend like things were bright and shiny.

Except he was Kurt Hummel and it seemed like Azimio and Karofsky couldn't just let him slide under their radar just this once. Classes hadn't even started for the day before Kurt was sent flying across the hallway, his back crashing into a bank of lockers. This was getting old really fast. Kurt whined as this side throbbed but gathered himself before he headed further down the hallway towards his locker. Three o'clock couldn't come soon enough.

When he got to his locker, Blaine was already there putting his books into his bag. He smiled when he looked up and caught sight of Kurt.

"It's good to see you're feeling better," Blaine said cheerily, "No more migraines?"

"No more migraines."

"That's good, I'm glad. I turned the first part of our project in. I think Mr. Henson thought we were going to use your absence as an excuse not to turn it in on time."

"It's a good thing you decided to take it home to type up the rest of it. Otherwise it wouldn't have even mattered that we worked through that last cup of coffee."

"That coffee was the only reason I was able to stay awake long enough to finish typing it up. Seriously, Rachel's rehearsal schedule makes me tired even on the days we don't rehearse. She's got us..." Blaine said before his voice faded.

Kurt turned his head away from his locker toward Blaine who was looking at him, eyes wide and terrified. But he wasn't looking at Kurt's face, he was looking somewhere lower.

"K-Kurt," Blaine said panicked, "I think you're bleeding"

"Shit," Kurt hissed following Blaine's line of sight to his side and found a line of red seeping through his white shirt. Why had he worn white?

Leaving Blaine with his jaw on the floor, Kurt turned and walked quickly down the hallway toward the bathroom. It was only moments before he could hear Blaine's voice calling behind him, the other boy's footsteps a half a beat behind his own. As soon as Kurt entered the empty bathroom, he rushed into the first available stall and locked himself inside.

"Kurt," Blaine said as he came into the bathroom, "Kurt, what is going on?

"Blaine," Kurt said his voice shaking from inside the tiny stall, "Please, leave me alone."

"Kurt, let me see," Blaine insisted.

"Blaine, please just go," Kurt urged, "I'll see you in English."

"No, Kurt. I'm not leaving until you come out here."

Kurt didn't respond. He couldn't go out there. He couldn't show Blaine what he'd been hiding from everyone else for years. He could explain away small bruises and tiny cuts on his arms. He could hide those with concealer and with lies. But there wasn't a believable story that Kurt could come up with for the angry gash that was inflamed on his side.

"Kurt, if you don't come out," Blaine threatened, "I'll just have to go get a teacher and—"

"Oh, my god," Kurt shouted as he unlocked the stall door, slowly emerging from its shelter.

"Thank you," Blaine said, "Now tell me what's going on."

"Nothing is going on Blaine. Just leave it alone."

"No, Kurt," Blaine said, "You're bleeding. And then you freaked out so I know there is something you're not telling me."

Kurt felt cornered, but not in the way that Uncle Tim had done. Kurt was cornered by the boy with the beautiful hazel eyes who just wanted to help. But Blaine couldn't help and he wasn't going to let Kurt get away without an explanation.

"Fine," Kurt said, "But you have to promise me that you'll believe me when I say it was an accident and not ask any questions."

"Okay," Blaine said looking so concerned that it scared Kurt.

Kurt lifted his shirt, exposing his side to Blaine. Two days and it was still as, if not more, swollen and purple and blue than it had been the first day. The shove into the lockers had pulled the skin apart just a little so that there was just a thin line of crimson against the wound. Blaine winced as he examined the wound, as if the sight of it had hurt Blaine.

"I'm going to be fine," Kurt explained, "it was an accident."

"Kurt, that's really bad. It looks infected."

"It looks a lot worse than it feels," Kurt lied.

"What happened?"

"Blaine—"

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Those are questions Blaine."

"Kurt," Blaine said, "it isn't deep but I really think it's infected. You should at least go to the nurse."

"No."

"Why not?"

"More questions, Blaine."

"You're just treating this yourself? With what?"

Kurt sighed, "Antiseptic and Neosporin."

"Can I?" Blaine said gesturing towards Kurt who just shrugged.

But the truth was having Blaine that close scared the shit out of Kurt. Having Blaine look at him that closely made his heart rate quicken and something fluttered low in his belly, as his body rebelled against his mind. This was incredibly unnerving considering that Blaine was doing nothing by staring at the gash in his side. Kurt had thought about it hard while he was lying in bed, trying not to turn onto his left side and manage to be comfortable. He couldn't continue to have any feelings for Blaine. So maybe he'd found the only person in Lima who actually understood what it was like to be Kurt, most of the time. Blaine understood what it was like to be gay in Small Town America. Blaine understood what it was like to be bullied and thrown into lockers and slushied in the face. But for all Kurt knew Blaine went home to a Leave It to Beaver household with a doting mother and a doting father and perhaps a sibling or two. Kurt went home to a nightmare each day. Kurt went home and hoped that all he experienced was verbal abuse instead of the physical kind. Kurt could never pull anyone into that mess. It was part of the reason he'd pushed Rachel away. Doing that wouldn't be fair to Blaine and all of it wasn't fair to Kurt. It wasn't fair to allow himself to imagine that there could be something there, because there couldn't. Despite the way he felt when he was around Blaine; despite the way his heart swelled to a million times its size every time the other boy looked at him, Kurt would never be able to be with Blaine.

"Do you have any bandages?" Blaine asked interrupting Kurt's thoughts.

"I'm out of the bigger ones. But I've got the rest of the first aid kit bag," Kurt explained.

Blaine laughed because despite the fact that Kurt was standing in front of him with an ugly gash on his side that was clearly infected, he still found it absolutely fascinating that Kurt would carry and entire first aid kit around in his bag.

Blaine moved over to grab Kurt's bag, glancing at Kurt to ask permission to open it. Kurt gave a nod and Blaine reached inside and amongst the folders, notebooks, and textbooks, Blaine found the first aid kit. He opened it up and grabbed the tiny package of antiseptic ointment and the box of wound closures and before placing the kit back in Kurt's bag and placed it back on the floor.

Blaine grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser on the wall, wet them with warm water and a little soap at the sink and then moved back over towards Kurt.

"You're going to want to use an actual washcloth when you do this at home," Blaine explained, "but I've got to improvise."

Blaine gently placed the paper towel against the wound and Kurt jumped back; Not from pain or cold, but because it was finally registering that Blaine helping him treat the wounds that Uncle Tim had left him with. It registered that Blaine was touching him and there was a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Kurt scolded himself for letting him feel those kinds of things for Blaine. If Tuesday night had taught him anything, it was that it was best to continue to keep Blaine as far away from his head and from his heart as he could. Blaine didn't need to get wrapped up in the drama of a bad day. Blaine didn't need to be lied to. Blaine had only ever been extremely kind to Kurt; there was no reason to be that cruel to him in return.

"Sorry," Blaine said.

Kurt reached over and grabbed the paper towel from Blaine's hand, "Just—just let me do it."

"Just clean it off and put some of the antiseptic on it and use those butterfly bandages," Blaine said, "And try not to get shoved into any lockers until that's healed."

"I'll see what I can do about that. Blaine?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you," Kurt muttered because despite how much Kurt wanted to push Blaine away, Blaine deserved to hear how thankful Kurt was for everything he'd done for Kurt.

Blaine nodded in response, "I know there something you're not telling me, Kurt. But if you want to, you can."

"This goes beyond locker buddy talk, Blaine."

"Then please realized that I'm your friend, Kurt. I know you may not like it, but it's true. You don't have to be my friend, but I am certainly yours."

"I don't deserve your friendship," Kurt said softly

It was true. Kurt had his reasons, but he still had been nothing but rude to Blaine most of the time. And yet there Blaine was, standing in front of him, offering the one thing Kurt wanted the most. But that same thing Kurt wanted was also the same thing he needed to pull away from. Everything with Blaine would go away as soon as their project was turned in and they didn't have to work with each other on a weekly basis, things would go back to normal. Kurt would keep his promise not to return to the hostel boy he was when they'd first met, but that was all that was going to become of Kurt and Blaine. The table that had been dubbed theirs would go back to being the table in the corner on Tuesday afternoons. Kurt would mourn the loss of it all, but he understood that was how it was meant to be.

"I don't think you know what you deserve," Blaine said looking Kurt right in the eye.

A silence fell between the two boys as their eyes remained locked together. Kurt wasn't sure how to respond to what Blaine had said, he wasn't sure what Blaine had meant. But a heartbeat later, Blaine took a step forward and laid a warm hand against Kurt's neck. Kurt felt Blaine hesitate for a second, Kurt himself terrified of what was happening. And then Blaine went up on his toes just a little and Kurt felt the crush of Blaine's lips against his forehead.

"I'll see you in English," Blaine whispered falling back on the pads of his feet, his arm running almost without thought from Kurt's neck down Kurt's arm. It sent bolts of electricity through Kurt so much he wasn't sure if he could walk properly if he needed to.

Kurt managed a nod, afraid of what would have come from his mouth had he opened it. Blaine took a step back, his eyes focused on Kurt, a tiny, bashful smile on his face before he turned away from Kurt leaving him alone in the bathroom and more confused about his feelings as ever.


	8. Chapter 7

AN: Hello adorable readers! :) I've been awake for a very long time so you'll have to forgive me if this gets goofy.

I'm going to let this chapter kind of speak for itself (I was super excited when I wrote it) but I want to thank all you lovely people who read and review this. You're my favorites! :D

Anyway...let me know what you think.

* * *

Thanksgiving passed, uneventful, with a frozen turkey dinner; the gash on Kurt's side turned into not much more than the scar he knew it would become; and most importantly, Blaine never brought up that day in the bathroom again. Kurt just assumed that every time Blaine asked him how he was, he really meant, 'how is that gigantic and incredibly suspicious wound on your side?' and Kurt answered appropriately with a shrug of his shoulders until he could respond with okay or good.

December had begun to roll in and the walls of McKinley were littered with an obscene amount of red and green decorations. Kurt hadn't been a fan of the upcoming holiday for many years. He had experienced three kinds of Christmas in his life. There were the Christmases before his mom died. He would get up with the sun and run upstairs and just stare in awe at the numerous wrapped boxes under the tree; most of them for him. And then he'd run into his parent's room and shake his mother until she woke up before running back to the living room and waited patiently for her to wake up his father and for the both of them to join him. Kurt would sit next to his mother on the floor in front of the tree while his father started the coffee pot, seemingly uninterested. But Kurt knew that it was only early morning grog that kept his father from matching his excitement. And by the time he had his first cup of coffee he looked happy, truly happy, as he joined his family. Later they would get dressed and go see Grandma Hummel while she was still around.

After Kurt's mom died, Christmas became a little less exciting for Kurt. Once the notion of Santa was obliterated, Kurt wasn't in a hurry to get up on Christmas morning. The number of presents was less, mostly because as he got older and his taste improved, clothes and things became more expensive. But once presents were over, Kurt and his dad just hung out. Usually in comfortable silence as Burt watched the game on TV and Kurt curled up on the couch, sketching. It wasn't that Christmas with just Kurt and his dad wasn't nice, it was. But it was missing that key thing, that key person, that had once made everything complete.

After his dad died, Kurt really didn't have Christmas. The first year, Uncle Tim gave him a gift card for iTunes because he clearly had no idea what to get Kurt. That was the first year Kurt didn't want a new pair of boots or that vest that was sitting on the mannequin in the window of one of the stores in the mall that he knew would look amazing on him. That year, he just wanted his parents. It was the Christmas before he came out and all he wanted was to know someone was in his corner. It was then that Kurt completely understood the cruelty of the world. It was that Christmas, and one other that Kurt spent with Rachel and her dads. Since then, Kurt spent each Christmas in his bedroom, entertaining himself while a playlist of Christmas music played quietly from his headphones. Uncle Tim never seemed to bother him on Christmas.

"We've got a problem," Blaine said as he approached his locker, turning the dial before turning to look at Kurt.

"What did Rachel do now?" Kurt asked trying his best to pull himself out of the dreary thoughts of Christmases past.

Blaine chuckled, "It's not Rachel."

"Then what's wrong?"

"A pipe burst at The Lima Bean," Blaine explained, "I drove past there this morning and there were workers surrounding the place. They are closed until further notice. And our project is due next week."

"Then we'll just have to find somewhere else."

"I'd offer my house, but we're remodeling our kitchen and its super noisy and we won't be able to get anything done."

Kurt knew the next thing Blaine would say. He knew Blaine would suggest going to Kurt's and the idea scared him. By some twist of luck, years late, Uncle Tim managed to get a job. Not only did Uncle Tim get a job, but he got a job working overnights. It was definitely not something Uncle Tim was happy about, but it meant that by the time Kurt got home from school, Uncle Tim was gone. And when Kurt left for school in the morning Uncle Tim was nowhere to be seen, probably sound asleep in his bedroom. Kurt knew that Uncle Tim was forced to take the first job he was offered; he knew that if social services noticed that Uncle Tim had been unemployed for too long, they would have to come out and check on everything since Kurt was still a minor But never did Kurt think he would be able to catch such a break as to finally get to spend the hours after he got home from school without fear and worry. He could make himself a real meal, one that wasn't cooked in the microwave. The one, rather civil, conversation Kurt and Uncle Tim had about his new job was simple: no one was allowed in the house and the house should be clean when he got home. It was like suddenly, Kurt was able to breath.

But he and Blaine still needed somewhere to finish their project and it was the last Tuesday before it was due. This was why the words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to change his mind.

"We can do it at….my house," Kurt said, the words 'my house' coming off his tongue as if they were a foreign language. He'd never considered the house he lived in his.

"A-are you sure?" Blaine asked and Kurt wondered for a moment if Rachel had told Blaine about Uncle Tim's rule.

"Yeah," Kurt said, "My uncle will be at work. There won't be anything to distract us. This is our last chance to get it done."

"All right, cool," Blaine said, "I'll, uh, meet you out front after school and follow you there?"

"Yeah," Kurt said nodding, "Sure."

Kurt walked to class trying to pretend he wasn't absolutely terrified.

* * *

Kurt was thankful he and Blaine weren't unexpectedly greeted by Uncle Tim as Blaine pulled in behind Kurt in the driveway. Kurt led Blaine inside the house, hoping more than anything that Uncle Tim hadn't left it a complete mess just so that Kurt would have to clean it up. He was relieved when the house was still in the same immaculate state Kurt had put it in the previous afternoon. It was perfect for guests.

Kurt immediately jumped into perfect host mode, ushering Blaine into the kitchen and offering refreshments. In his New York dreams, Kurt had an apartment, a place he could finally call his that wasn't Uncle Tim's or a dorm room. Sometimes in his dream future, there was an apartment, and friends. And every other month or so Kurt would host a get together with pretty much everyone Kurt knew. He'd be the perfect host and it was the get togethers at Kurt's that would be what everyone looked forward to the most. The night would always end with some story that he and his friends would talk about repeatedly until the next party rolled around and a new story was created. Kurt hadn't been able to play host since the last time Rachel had been over, and Kurt wasn't sure how long ago that was anymore. So when Blaine smiled and thanked Kurt as Kurt put the glass of water down in front of Blaine at the kitchen table, Kurt relished the feeling of being appreciated.

The boy got settled into across from each other at the kitchen table, becoming engrossed in their respective parts of their project as an overwhelming silence fell over them. At The Lima Bean, there were usually other customers chatting around them, the sound of the blenders and grinders coming from behind the counter. Never before had the two boys been forced to listen to just the sound of their pens scraping against the paper or the sound of other person breathing. It had been a lot easier for Kurt to focus on homework and not Blaine's presence before. But now Kurt was hyperaware of all things Blaine. He'd never though the sound of someone breathing would have him so unfocused but he'd gone five minutes only starting at his book while listening to the sound of Blaine's breathing, as if he was trying to memorize the sound.

"Do you think we could but on some music or something," Blaine said startling Kurt, "It's actually hard to focus when it's so quiet in here."

It was like Blaine had been in his head.

"Yeah," Kurt said standing, "I'll be right back."

Kurt hurried down the hall and disappeared into his bedroom, emerging a moment later with his iPod dock from his desk, setting it on the table between the two of them before plugging it in. When he settled back down into his seat, there still wasn't any music playing.

"Do you mind?" Blaine said lifting up his iPod.

"As long as you don't have a secret obsession with gangster rap," Kurt said with a smile, "Be my guest."

Blaine laughed, "No, no gangster rap. Could you imagine me rapping?"

Kurt chuckled, "Yes, actually. Although, even in my imagination, I'm dying of second hand embarrassment."

"Oh, come on, it can't be that bad?"

"Oh, but it is, Blaine. It's a performer's nightmare."

"Well I don't have anything that resembles that on here. Wes and David, they were my friends at Dalton; they might tell you that there is too much Katy Perry, but you won't find anything incriminating on there."

"Do you talk to them often?" Kurt asked casually, "You're friends from Dalton, I mean."

"Sometimes. We all vowed to keep in touch but most of it has been through Facebook. But Wes and David want to get together over winter break, so I'm looking forward to that."

"That sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun," Kurt said.

"Definitely."

Blaine hit play on his iPod and both boys went back to their work, the sound of Katy Perry filling the room on more than one occasion from Blaine's iPod. It wasn't for another half an hour before Kurt started humming along with to the song that he was playing. He paused suddenly recognizing the song, it was kind of old.

"Really, Blaine?"

"Huh?" Blaine questioned looking up from his book.

"Hanson?" Kurt questioned judgingly, "I thought you said there wasn't anything embarrassing on here?"

"Hanson isn't embarrassing!"

"It is too. This song is almost as old as we are."

"But you knew what it was, so you don't have any room to judge," Blaine said playfully, "Plus most of the Broadway songs we listen to are older than our parents."

Kurt's face fell instantly and Blaine's eyes widened at the realization of what he'd said.

"Kurt, I'm sorry—"

"No, no, it's okay," Kurt said waving it off, "I'm fine. Let's just finish this project and we can continue our witty banter about your terrible taste in music later."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Blaine asked feeling incredibly guilty.

"Yes," Kurt said, "Macbeth, on the other hand is not okay. Focus on him."

Blaine nodded silently and turned back to the pages of source material in front of him.

An hour later, Kurt had moved to the other side of the table and was sitting next to Blaine as they combined their individual efforts into the whole of their project.

"I can type this up this weekend and it will be ready to turn it in this weekend," Blaine said as he tucked the collection of their notes into his folder.

Pleased with their accomplishment, Kurt smiled wide looking into Blaine's eyes which twinkled with excitement. And then, just like he'd done when Kurt had told him he'd gotten into Parsons, Blaine moved forward, wrapping his arms around Kurt's middle, hugging him close. Blaine was warm against him and while it was still a shock, Kurt quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around Blaine and squeezed him just a little tighter. He'd missed this, the feeling of closeness with another person, companionship, friendship, and all the things he'd been keeping himself from. But the new freedom that Uncle Tim's new job had given Kurt had also given Kurt something he didn't expect to feel while still in Ohio. Hope. There was hope that maybe he could try to live as normal of a teenage life as he could while he still had the chance. He'd pushed Rachel away, he knew that he'd never get her friendship back, he didn't deserve it. But he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could let himself be something with Blaine. He didn't know if it meant exploding with every feeling Kurt had been feeling towards Blaine, the feelings he was once certain he shouldn't have, he couldn't have. Or maybe, he could continue to repress those and just be Blaine's friend. Because that's what he'd missed the most the last year and a half, having someone he could rely on, someone he could tell his secrets to. And while the secret about Uncle Tim would never cross his lips, he wanted to tell someone that he missed performing. He wanted to tell someone that he could just eat cheesecake as a meal if someone let him. He wanted someone else to know all of his quirks that made him who he was. And he sure as hell didn't want to wait until June to have that. Not when he thought that maybe he could have that now.

Blaine pulled away slightly, but didn't removing his arms from around Kurt. Kurt looked up, his blue eyes meeting hazel orbs that were sparkling as they gazed at him openly. Kurt could feel the color rising to his cheeks as he watched the way Blaine's eyes darted across Kurt's face, as if he was reading, as if he was trying to read Kurt. Their bodies were still tangled, and Kurt's head was spinning and he was pretty sure that his heart was going to beat itself right out of his chest.

Kurt's eyes glanced quickly at Blaine's lips, pink and firm. The heat in his cheeks rose and he looked away to try to get some relief, but his eyes were drawn back immediately. He had no idea what he was doing, but he wanted to feel Blaine's lips against his own. But he was so close to Blaine and he'd never found someone's lips so mesmerizing before. He couldn't help but stare at them, wondering if there were really as soft as they looked. Wondering what they would feel like against his own. He forced himself to look away from Blaine's lips once more, moving his gaze upward to Blaine's eyes that were looking at Kurt with wonder, amazement and a little bit of confusion. Because what the hell was Kurt doing? He didn't even know. It was like he was being controlled by some part of him that wasn't computing with his brain.

The only parts of himself that Kurt could register were the hammering of his heart, the shaking of his breath and a certain something else. Kurt knew what that feeling was. He'd watched the musicals, and the movie; he'd heard it in the songs. But now, this feeling, of wanting another person the way he wanted Blaine in that moment, Kurt had never expected it would feel the way it did. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Kurt wasn't sure who had closed the gap, but the second Blaine's lips touched his own, it was like he was wide awake, conscious of how incredibly soft Blaine's lips actually were as he felt them with his. It was like something that Kurt had been keeping locked up deep inside himself had been unleashed and had launched an attack on his nerves, and his emotions. When Blaine's hand came up to cup Kurt's cheek in his palm, as he leaned deeper into the kiss, Kurt was certain there wasn't a single cell in his body that wasn't on fire and all he wanted to do was burn.

When they broke apart a minute later, Blaine rested his forehead against Kurt's and let out a breathy laugh.

"What's so funny?" Kurt whispered not moving. He wasn't sure he could if he wanted to.

"I didn't think you—"Blaine mumbled.

"I do."

In response, Blaine leaned in and placed his lips against Kurt's. Kurt was certain that he was going to drown as the feeling that coursed through him as Blaine kissed him, and when he kissed Blaine back. And he wanted nothing more than to let those feelings take him down. This was so much more than the feelings a movie or a song could invoke, this was what real emotions felt like. It had been a long time, but Kurt was pretty sure that it was happiness that he was feeling. Happiness that he was finally letting someone in again, happiness that he finally wanted to, happiness because Blaine had accepted him even though Kurt hadn't always been so receptive of Blaine in the past.

When they broke away, they were both silent, looking at each other, but both of them clearly unsure what should happen next.

"I should go." Blaine said ducking his head bashfully.

Kurt panicked for a moment, because all he could think about was the fact that he'd kissed Blaine and Blaine had kissed him and now it was like Blaine was running away.

"Y-you don't have to," Kurt said finding his voice, and some courage, "You could stay; we could watch TV or something."

"Yeah," Blaine said nodding, "Yeah. Okay."

Kurt hadn't watched television regularly in a long time. He caught up with some of the drama on the internet, but he hadn't sat down in front of the big screen Uncle Tim had purchased two years before in almost as long. But he walked into the living room, Blaine following behind him, grabbed the remote off the coffee table and settled down onto the luxurious cushions of the couch. So many months of sitting on either his bed or his desk chair made him appreciate the comfort that was offered. Blaine sat down next to him, not far away, but enough so that their bodies weren't touching. Kurt wondered for a moment if that was Blaine's way of putting distance between the two of them. Like he was suddenly taking back the kiss at the table. But when he looked over and saw the smile on Blaine's face, Kurt eased a bit. Maybe he knew as much about what was going on between the two of them as Kurt did. Maybe he was just as uncertain about what was next.

When Blaine's hand reached over and entwined his fingers with Kurt's, Kurt's entire body vibrated. Maybe neither of them knew what would happen between the two of them, but Kurt glanced at their joined hands and knew that they'd figure out what this was, together.

And that made Kurt feel the thing he'd longed to feel the most.

_Free._


	9. Chapter 8

**AN:** I'm sorry! I know I'm terrible, but it was a combination of terrible writer's block and a very busy schedule. Feel free to follow me on twitter ( thatgleekychick) and watch me tweet my writing process.

Anyway, here you go. It's Christmas!

I'll hopefully have Chapter 9 up soon! But let me know what you think!

* * *

It has been a long time since Kurt paid any attention to anything else but what he was doing while he was at his locker. It had been a long time since he'd shot a look down the hall, waiting for see someone specific, someone _special_ coming down the hallway. But that was until he'd found himself looking nervously and excitedly down the crowded hallway hoping to catch sight of Blaine.

It had been two week since Blaine had left Kurt's house with a kiss goodnight and a promise to see each other in the morning. That promise had made ever cell in Kurt's body buzz with excitement. But Kurt had stopped Blaine before he crossed the threshold.

"Blaine, wait," Kurt said as Blaine turned back towards Kurt, "Do you think we could—I don't mean that we're going to hide whatever this is—but people—"

"You mean Rachel?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt sighed because,_ yes_, that was part of it, maybe even most of it, "And Karofsky and Azimio and anyone else who will taunt or judge if they see two boys holding hands and kissing in the hallway," Kurt said, "I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself—to _us_."

While Rachel was part of it, the reaction of their peers played a pretty large part as well. The bullies were bad enough. Just that day, Blaine had spent two passing periods ignoring Azimio as the football player taunted Blaine. Granted most of what came out of Azimio's mouth didn't make sense, but it was still something they both had to deal with on a daily basis. Kissing Blaine in the middle of the hallway would only fuel their fire.

One of the things Kurt liked most about Blaine was that the curly haired, wide eyed boy understood him. Blaine understood what it was like to be Kurt (minus the whole abusive uncle thing). Blaine understood what it was like to be him, to be out in a high school where those around them didn't understand or accept them for who they were. Though Blaine never really spoke about his past, Kurt knew that he had been bullied before; so their fears about high school were the same. And Kurt knew that was the only reason that Blaine smiled and nodded, accepting Kurt's request.

"Let's get coffee after school tomorrow," Blaine suggested.

Kurt smiled and nodded slowly as the fear began to creep into his head. It happened every time he made plans with Blaine. The fear that Uncle Tim would somehow find out what Kurt had been up to followed him around, haunting him and he hated that. But he had to remind himself that Uncle Tim would never know; he would be home long before the older man. He reminded himself that Uncle Tim wasn't around to tower over him from a distance any longer, at least during the week. As long as Uncle Tim never found out Blaine had been in the house, Kurt had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Now, Kurt's heart stopped when he caught sight of Blaine's perfectly gelled hair coming down the hallway before a smile formed onto his lips and his heart began beating again, at a very rapid pace. Kurt watched as Blaine approached him with a smile of his own that reached his eyes and oh _god_, this was what he'd been wanting his entire life. Long before the death of his parents and the horrid presence of his uncle, Kurt had wanted to feel the rush of emotions when a boy would smile at him like that. A lopsided smile that set his body on fire and made his head dizzy with glee.

Blaine sauntered over next to Kurt, leaning in and pressing his warm lips to Kurt's cheek, "Good morning."

"Good morning, indeed," Kurt said the color rushing to his cheeks.

"That," Blaine said, his voice slightly shaking, "That was okay?"

Kurt smiled. It was more than okay. It was great. Perfect even. Kurt took his eyes away from Blaine for just a second to glance around him. No one had noticed. No one cared. His eyes returned to Blaine's before he nodded.

"What about," Blaine said stepping forward and claiming Kurt's left hand in his right, "this?"

Kurt didn't bother to glance around him; he couldn't if he wanted to. Because Blaine's hand was warm in his own. It was like that connection, just the touch of their hands, drew every single one of Kurt's senses towards Blaine. Kurt smiled and gave Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze as he subtlety swung their conjoined hands in the space between them. Holding hands in public like that, with the entire student body swarming around them, was risky. But so was having Blaine to his house every night that Blaine didn't have glee rehearsal. Kurt was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, Blaine was worth all the risk.

"This?" Blaine said leaning forward and as Kurt watched Blaine's eyes flutter closed, his heart rate sped up again and then he realized there was one risk he wasn't willing to take just yet as he put his finger up to meet Blaine's lips.

"Let's not push our luck," Kurt said, "We can do plenty of that after school."

Even if it was all he could think about doing at the moment.

Blaine pouted, "I have glee after school."

"Oh."

"I could come by afterward if Rachel lets us out on time," Blaine said, "Or you could come with me. I hear you sing like an angel."

Kurt had been waiting for that. For the moment Blaine would suggest that Kurt return to the things he'd once loved. It was a completely innocent suggestion, but it would start with glee club and only escalate from there.

"While that may be true, I don't think I could."

"Regionals aren't for another month," Blaine said, "There's plenty of time to get caught up."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Kurt said. He'd be lying if he hadn't thought about it. He finally had a chance to get some semblance of his old life back. He could join New Directions again, get his friends back and just be happy. But every time he thought about it, he thought about Rachel. He thought about the look on her face when she would see him in the hallway, when she had finally stopped nagging him and simply accepted the fact that their friendship was over, the wounded look in her eyes, her body slouched from her normally pristine posture. When Kurt remembered that look on her face, he remembered that he'd done that to every single person in that club. They were his family and, though he had his reasons, he'd turned his back on them all.

"I know you don't understand, but I pushed them away from a reason. I can't just let them back in."

"You let me in."

"Yes, well you kept popping your adorable little head in when I didn't want it there," Kurt said teasingly, "It was easier to give into your persistence rather than continue to dodge you every day until graduation."

"I'm honored," Blaine said squeezing Kurt's hand where they still hung conjoined between them, "But seriously, Kurt. I want to hear you sing."

"And maybe one day you will," Kurt said, "But my uncle will never allow me to go to any of the competitions so it's pointless to even participate.

"That's not true."

"I was in that club when there were only five of us. I know for a fact that you can't compete with any less than twelve members and it is true. It'll throw off the entire routine if you add me in it during rehearsal only to get rid of me for the competitions."

"You love it," Blaine said.

"What?"

"You love it. Performing, I mean," Blaine said, "I know fashion is your life but the way you talk about show choir. Your eyes have a fire to them."

"I barely said anything."

"I know, but I still saw it. It's still there."

"Oh."

"If I come over after glee will you sing for me?"

"Maybe," Kurt teased, "If you're lucky."

Blaine came over, but Kurt never got a chance to sing. In fact they didn't do much talking at all.

* * *

Though Kurt had gotten used to feeling free in his own house while Uncle Tim was at work, especially now that he was on winter break, Kurt had no qualms about hiding in his bedroom on Christmas while Uncle Tim sat in front of the television. It was just Kurt sitting in his bedroom, sketching and listening to Christmas music. Just like the last couple of years, Kurt had been alone, but this was the first year that Kurt didn't feel sad. Kurt tried his luck around noon to get something to eat, tip toeing towards the kitchen. Kurt made no eye contact with his uncle as he walked through the living room and the older man gave no inclination that he even saw Kurt. Kurt thought that maybe he could live with this as he snuck back into his room. If this was the way that they dealt with each other until Kurt left for New York, everything would just be fine.

And why wouldn't it be? Okay, maybe his living situation wasn't the best or even great. But on and off throughout Christmas he would receive text messages from Blaine, telling him stories about his crazy aunt and the hideous sweater that she'd given him. Kurt laughed quietly at his phone screen when Blaine sent a picture; it was absolutely terrible.

Blaine was having a classic TV movie Christmas With the unfortunate amount of family time, complete with relatives you only see once a year, who don't know you well enough to buy you something you'll actually like so they buy you hideous articles of clothing like sweaters and socks; but you smile and kiss their cheeks because it's what you're supposed to do. There had been a point where Kurt would hear about Blaine's seemingly normal family holiday and think that those things weren't something he would ever be able to experience. Instead, this year, as he received another text from Blaine about the punch on his cheek he received from his grandmother, Kurt couldn't help but slide into a wild daydream about one day being able to have something just like that; he saw it as a possibility rather than unattainable dream.

That was how Blaine made him feel. He made Kurt feel like there was so much possibility in his once very, now just mildly, fucked up world. With each day, each text message, each touch, each kiss, Kurt felt like he was becoming the person he used to be, that he could actually _be_ the person he used to be again. He found himself humming quietly along to the music as it played, no longer did it only provide background noise against the silence of being alone. There was eagerness inside him that Kurt hadn't felt in so long. He was eager to go to school each day, to see Blaine waiting for him by their lockers, to come home with Blaine and just hang out with him, to just be a teenager.

Everything wasn't perfect, not at all. There was still a tiny bit of Kurt that was still absolutely petrified that one day he would walk through the front door with Blaine and Uncle Tim would be sitting there and the sight of them would set Uncle Tim off. It had been over a month since he'd last had a bad day, but Kurt knew there would be another eventually. So he enjoyed the moments he got cautiously, appreciating them.

Now that Christmas was over Uncle Tim returned to work, and Kurt hurried to straighten up the house because Blaine was on his way. It had been four days since Kurt had seen Blaine last and even though that they'd been texting most of the day, every day, Kurt was tingling with excitement to see Blaine. Blaine had hinted that he may or may not have gotten Kurt a Christmas present, so Kurt spent most of the morning trying to come up with something he could give Blaine that he could create from what was in his room. There hadn't been much to work with but he had enough old fabric lying around to create a charcoal colored scarf and he quickly burned the playlist Blaine created on Kurt's computer one day while they were working on homework, to a CD. He couldn't offer Blaine much, but what Kurt had learned about Blaine since they began dating (was it really dating? They never really went anywhere other than Kurt's living room and they saw each other at school, but that was pretty much it) was that he was very appreciative of everything. It had to come from the way he was raised because he always thanked Kurt for a bottle of water like Kurt had given him a fifty dollar bill. Kurt was pretty sure he could give Blaine a stick for Christmas and Blaine would thank him with a great deal of sincerity. Kurt found it absolutely adorable.

Straightening the maroon placemats on the kitchen table that hadn't been used by anyone other than Kurt and Blaine in a year, Kurt felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He didn't need to check to see who it was, he only had Blaine after all, but the Kurt had told Blaine that he should never knock or ring the doorbell when he came over, just to text him and he'd meet him at the door. The text that read: Here :), made Kurt's inside vibrate with excitement.

Kurt rushed to the door, pulled hard on the knob and when the door was open and he saw Blaine standing there, wrapped in his jacket and a scarf, he didn't resist the urge he had to throw himself into Blaine's arms, the winter cold going unnoticed in the warmth of Blaine's embrace as the other boy held him tight. If he could stay there, wrapped only in Blaine, he would. When he was with Blaine, he didn't have to think about his shitty life. He was just able to be. He felt Blaine laugh, the other boys breath tickling his ear making him hold on a little tighter. Here, he was safe.

Blaine pulled away slightly, only enough so that he could lean in and press his lips against Kurt's. They stayed like that for a moment, kissing slowly. Kurt expected Blaine's lips to be rough from the cold but they're smooth, covered in chapstick Blaine must have applied before he'd come to the door, as they slide along his own, making Kurt dizzy until Blaine pulled away.

"If you don't let me in, you're never going to get your present," Blaine whispered, his face still close to Kurt's.

"Oh, god," Kurt said pulling away but reaching down for Blaine's hand. He hadn't meant to keep them in the cold, "Yes, come in, it's freezing out there."

Kurt guided Blaine into the house and let go of Blaine's hand only long enough for Blaine to remove his coat and scarf and hang them up on the otherwise barren coat rack next to the door, before their fingers entwined against, squeezing together gently.

"Here," Blaine said extending the hand that wasn't conjoined with Kurt's which had a rather large plain green gift bag with red tissue paper coming from the top in it, "This is for you."

"Blaine," Kurt said taking the bag, "You really didn't have to get me anything."

"I know," Blaine said with a smile that set off the butterflies in Kurt's stomach, "But I wanted to. So open it."

Kurt walked over to the couch, pulling Blaine behind him, and sat down patting the spot next to him. Blaine sat down next to Kurt their hands no longer linked, but their knees touched as Kurt set the bag down on the coffee table in front of them. Kurt pulled the tissue paper from the bag then reached inside until his hand collided with something hard and wooden, pulled it from the bag and set it on his lap.

The box was made of pale wood and held no markings. Kurt found the clasp in front, flicking it open and lifting the lid. Inside were pencils, both regular and colored and an assortment of other tools used for drawing.

"I asked the associate at the craft store what the best thing to give an aspiring fashion designer who was accepted into the country's best school for fashion design and she had no idea," Blaine said laughing, "But she was nice enough to help me pick that out. There are a couple of sketch pads in there too."

"Blaine—"Kurt started though he was completely unsure what to say. It was too much.

"If you don't like them or they aren't right or whatever you can return them and get what you like or need. I just thought you could have some new supplies to take with you to school."

"Blaine," Kurt repeated, this time to get the other boy's attention.

"Yeah?"

"They're perfect," Kurt said removing the box from his lap and placing it on the coffee table, "Thank you."

And they were perfect. Kurt had found a similar set online a couple of weeks before and had made a note to check to see if these kinds of materials were going to be covered by his scholarship or he would have to find a job the moment he got to New York, or take out a student loan to pay for the required materials he would need for classes. But this, he would tuck this away and he would have one less thing he needed to worry about.

Kurt leaned forward and placed his lips against Blaine's in thanks, his hand coming up to cup Blaine's cheek deepening the kiss, making Kurt feel like he was flying. But Blaine's hand coming up and settling against Kurt's hip made every part of him soar all while keeping him grounded.

"Your gift is in my bedroom," Kurt said breathy when they pulled away, their foreheads resting against each other, "Wait right here."

Kurt stood up and Blaine reached out and grabbed hold of his wrist, "Do-Do you think I could come with you?"

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt said flirtatiously with a smirk to hide the fact that he was absolutely terrified that Blaine had just requested an invitation into his bedroom.

"Not like-oh wow. Uh, that's not what I meant," Blaine said absolutely flustered and his cheeks a bright red, "I just wanted to see your room. In a completely non-suggestive, non-creepy way."

Kurt shot Blaine a smile and turned the wrist Blaine had been holding until he could grab Blaine's hand and pull Blaine off the couch. Blaine bashfully ducked his head as Kurt led him down the hall, opening the first of two doors on the right.

"It's not much. But it does what I need it to do," Kurt said standing in the middle of his room before adding internally, _"Like protect me from my abusive uncle."_

"It's very you," Blaine said, "I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I think this was it."

"Here," Kurt said reaching for the scarf and CD that were sitting on his desk, "This is for you."

"Kurt," Blaine said holding the scarf in front of him, "This is beautiful. It's my very own Kurt Hummel original."

"If I get a thousand people who are as enthusiastic as you are about a Kurt Hummel original and are willing to pay, I may be able to die a happy man."

"A thousand?" Blaine questioned, "Kurt you will sell a million."

Kurt laughed because that was just ridiculous. Mostly because the scarf Blaine was holding was nothing more than scrap fabric that had been sitting in the bin he kept behind his easel for months.

"You really like it?" Kurt asked sheepishly.

"Yes," Blaine answered, "I really like it. And the CD too."

Blaine set his gifts back on the desk where Kurt had grabbed them from and walked until he stood in front of Kurt. Reaching out, Blaine looped his index finger through the empty belt loop of Kurt's black jeans and pulled Kurt closer before moving both hands until they wrapped tightly around Kurt's waist.

"Thank you," Blaine whispered before pressing his lips against Kurt's, "Merry Christmas, Kurt."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck pressing himself closer to Blaine and further into the kiss. He hadn't really thought about what they would do while Blaine was here, but this, this was good. This he could live with.

"Merry Christmas, Blaine," Kurt said removing his hands from where they were tangled in the hair at the nape of Blaine's neck sliding down Blaine's shoulder over his sweater until he reached Blaine's left hand, entwining their fingers and pulling him toward the bed.

Blaine let Kurt drag him for a couple of steps but stopped himself right before the back of Kurt's knees hit the mattress sending Kurt an apprehensive glance.

"Completely non-suggestive and non-creepy," Kurt said with a smile repeating Blaine's words from earlier.

This was another one of those normal teenager things that Kurt could get used to; making out with a boy on his bed. Granted the door was open, but there was no one home and no one would be home for hours. So the lay on the bed and when their lips weren't attached to each other, they would just lie there, wrapped up in each other talking about various things. Mostly Blaine talked about New Directions or something in the classes Kurt and Blaine didn't share.

"Does it make you feel uncomfortable when I talk about them?" Blaine asked.

"The New Directions? No, not really," Kurt said, "You shouldn't have to pretend you aren't part of that group just because they used to be my friends."

"Just say the word and I won't speak another word about them or regionals or anything. But can I ask you something?"

"I'm not rejoining New Directions, Blaine," Kurt said.

"That's not what I was going to ask," Blaine said, "Not really anyway."

Kurt eyed him suspiciously, "Go on."

"What would you say about going to Rachel's New Year's Eve party with me? I know you said we weren't hiding us and I thought maybe you'd want to be my date. Rachel already told me I could bring someone since everyone else is already kind of coupled off. And I can't imagine bringing anyone but you."

That sounded great to Kurt except, "Rachel won't want me there."

"Kurt, I really think she'll be okay with it. If you're willing to make the first move, I know that she'd forgive you and open her arms to you."

"You really think it's that easy?" Kurt questioned, suddenly hopeful. He'd thought about talking to her on numerous occasions, but had decided against it because he rather not have her turn the tables and push him away. They'd both been hurt enough by all of this, he didn't want to open old wounds.

"Yeah, I do. "

There was the feeling of possibility again. The possibility that he could have friends again. That he could regain the family he'd lost, the one he'd pushed away.

"She'll want an explanation. I-I can't give her that. I can't tell her."

"Why not?"

While they'd mentioned Kurt's previous relationship with New Directions before, specifically with Rachel, Blaine hadn't really questioned why Kurt had pushed away everyone that loved him since they began hanging out regularly.

"B-because I just can't," Kurt said, "Maybe one day. Just not now."

"You could try starting there. It's possible she'll take it."

Possible, yes. Likely, maybe. But Kurt was on a roll when it came to making things he once thought impossible possible, so it might be worth a shot. A day away from home with people who could be his friends (again). A New Year's Eve where he could kiss Blaine at midnight and start fresh. A New Year, full of graduation and New York and escaping Lima and Uncle Tim forever.

The thought of Uncle Tim cut off the thoughts that had been bouncing excitedly through Kurt's head a moment before. He had no idea what Uncle Tim's plans were for New Years. He had no idea if he'd be home or out with friends, but either way he could count on Uncle Tim being completely wasted. Kurt was all about taking risks, but risking Uncle Tim coming home to find him not there or if he came home to a drunken Uncle Tim waiting for him that was a risk he wasn't willing to take. It reminded him that all of the freedom that he'd been given still came with rules that he needed to follow.

"I-I can't," Kurt said, "I, uh, I just can't, Blaine. I'm sorry."

It was a terrible answer. If he had been Blaine he would have responded to himself with a million questions because it was the vaguest answer he could come up with on the spot. Blaine had been asking him on a date, a real date and he'd practically shut him down without giving him an honest reason. But he couldn't tell him the truth could he?

"Hey," Blaine said rubbing his hand along Kurt's upper arm, "it's okay. Can I call you at midnight?"

"Absolutely," Kurt said smiling and leaning forward to capture Blaine's lips with his own.

* * *

Kurt spent New Year's Eve by himself on the couch, listening closely for the sound of Uncle Tim's car pulling into the driveway. He ate popcorn and watched New Year's Rockin' Eve curled up under a blanket. He watched the ball drop and almost instantly his phone vibrated on the table in front of him. He answered without looking because he knew who it was.

"Happy New Year, Kurt," Blaine's voice came through the phone.

"Happy New Year, Blaine." Kurt said.

Kurt sank further into the couch, smiling as Blaine began telling him how Tina was absolutely wasted and passed out an hour before midnight. He felt it then. He felt that everything may not be perfect, but maybe, just maybe, it could still be a happy new year.


	10. Chapter 9

**AN:** Sorry about the delay! I think I changed the plot of this chapter about 3 times.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

By three fifteen the Thursday after the student of McKinley returned from winter break, the hallways were empty. Blaine had met Kurt at their lockers after their last class before Kurt headed home and Blaine went to glee rehearsal. Once the holidays passed, Kurt and Blaine spent the rest of winter break wrapped around each other in Kurt's house. Sometimes they would watch movies or television, commenting on everything from the ridiculous story lines of scripted dramas to the fashion choices on various reality shows. It was perfect.

But not that most of their days were consumed by school, they were back to enjoying the little time they had at their lockers or during English class when their teacher assigned things that could be done in groups; or when Blaine didn't have glee rehearsal. The New Directions rehearsal schedule had calmed down some before break, but with regionals in three weeks, The Rachel Berry Schedule was back in full force. And that left Blaine with only a couple of days where he could spend his afternoons with Kurt.

Blaine had fifteen minutes before he had to be in the choir room and Kurt had agreed to stick around at school a little longer just to be with Blaine before rehearsal. Blaine shut the door to his locker then leaned against it, watching as Kurt mirrored him. He was close enough that he could reach out and take Kurt's hand if he wanted to, and he did. Blaine reached over and took hold of Kurt's hand, lacing their fingers together, squeezing gently as their hands hung between them. Blaine looked up to see the smile on Kurt's face and the twinkle in his blue eyes that made the smile on his own lips impossible to conceal. They may not have as much time together as they'd like right now, but for both Kurt and Blaine, this was more than they'd ever dreams was possible; so it was good, very good.

Blaine was telling Kurt about how over break when he'd met with his friends from Dalton, how they broke into an impromptu performance of Uptown Girl that almost gotten them all kicked out of the mall when Kurt tightened the hold on their joined hands and began pulling Blaine down the hallway. Blaine could only manage broken words as his feet followed Kurt's down several empty hallways until Kurt gave once final tug towards the tiny annex between two locker banks. With another tug, Blaine's body went crashing into Kurt's, the other boy's hands landing on Blaine's hips to hold him close. When Kurt's warm lips met his, there was only a moment of shock before Blaine melted into Kurt's touch. They'd never kissed or been this close to each other at school. It was nothing more than some hand holding and a lot of smiles and stolen glances that were elaborated on when they were alone in Kurt's living room.

"Can't you just skip Glee rehearsal," Kurt asked as he broke away and pressed his forehead to Blaine's, his voice a whisper and his breath warm as it hit Blaine's face.

"Regionals are coming up," Blaine said reaching forward to capture Kurt's lips with his own. Despite the fact that he had less than fifteen minutes to get to the choir room, this was where he wanted to be. Maybe not right there, exactly, but with Kurt, holding Kurt, kissing Kurt.

"Boo," Kurt said after they'd separated again, "I guess I'll actually have to do homework tonight."

"On the bright side," Blaine said, "All of this will be over after soon."

"But then you'll have nationals to get ready for and Rachel will keep you hostage and you won't have any free time for me," Kurt said with a slight pout.

Blaine smiled. He wanted to give all his time to Kurt, "You really think we're going to win?"

"You guys sound really good," Kurt said, "And you're the male lead, so if I was a betting man, I'd say you're going to win."

Blaine looked at Kurt with wide, bewildered eyes, "You heard us? When?"

"I may have walked past the auditorium during your lunchtime rehearsal yesterday," Kurt confessed.

"You should have come in and said hello," Blaine said. Kurt gave him a pointed look, "Right."

"But really Blaine," Kurt said his fingers sliding over the sweater at the small of Blaine's back, "You sound amazing. You are amazing, Blaine."

Kurt leaned in and kissed him again. Because that was why he pulled Blaine out of the main hallway, so that he could kiss him and be near him.

"You should probably get going," Kurt said pressing one last chaste kiss against Blaine's lips.

"I have to," Blaine said pressing another quick kiss to Kurt's lips, "But I never said I wanted to."

"Call me when you're done," Kurt said shyly.

"Absolutely."

This was the point where they were supposed to untangle themselves from each other and go their separate ways. But neither of them could bring themselves to move. After a moment of blissful silence the sound of laughter came from somewhere down the hall causing both boys to reluctantly pull away quickly.

There was no goodbye kiss. Only the swipe of Kurt's thumb along Blaine's knuckles before the last physical connection keeping them together was broken.

"I'll see ya later," Kurt said taking a slow step away from Blaine, backing slowly down the hallway.

"Yeah," Blaine said softly, unsure if Kurt could even hear it as he watched Kurt reach the intersection of the hallway and with a smile disappear around the corner.

* * *

Blaine had expected to walk into an almost full choir room, but he found it surprisingly empty as he walked in, his lips carrying a smile and the memory of the feeling of Kurt's lips on his. He was the first one there so he took advantage of the empty room and sat down at the piano. He ghosted his fingers over the white keys before he pressed down on the ivory creating a melody to fill the room. He hadn't intended on playing _that_ song, Katy Perry didn't always make for the best piano arrangements, but it seemed like the perfect song because it reminded him of Kurt. The song had come on while he was at Kurt's the day before. Kurt's nose was pointed towards his history textbook, but Blaine's eyes couldn't focus on academics, only Kurt. He watched Kurt, taking in the way his forehead creased when he didn't understand something and then relaxed as he finally comprehended whatever it was that he was reading. Blaine was so lucky to have found Kurt. It was like he found something he didn't even realize he was missing. Kurt understood Blaine like no one else, not his parents or his brother, ever could. Kurt would listen to Blaine as he rattled on and on about singing and dancing and performing, his eyes intensely focused on Blaine, not rolling like his father's did or vacant and uninterested like his mother's. With Kurt, he felt like he was free. Not that he was completely suppressed before, but with Kurt, there was so much possibility. The sky was the limit when he could touch Kurt, hold Kurt, kiss Kurt.

Though they had gotten to know each other pretty well since they started working on their English project last semester, there were parts of Kurt that were still very much a mystery to Blaine. Blaine was aware that there was a part of Kurt that was kept hidden, and despite Blaine's best efforts, Kurt refused to let that part show. Blaine was the only person at school that Kurt socialized with voluntarily, and the suggestion of Kurt coming with Blaine to spend time with the New Directions made Kurt freeze until he stuttered out an excuse not to go. Blaine had only once tried to ask Kurt about it, about his relationship with the New Directions before and why he pushed everyone away. But Kurt got defensive and the subject was quickly dropped. Blaine told himself not to take it personally. That Kurt would just have to learn that he could trust him completely. Blaine would have to show him that it was true; show him that Blaine would be there no matter what.

Was it too soon to call it love? Maybe. But he'd found something special with Kurt. Kurt was a dream come true.

Blaine's thoughts of Kurt, and his piano playing, were interrupted by the booming voice of a very tiny brunette.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rachel shouted as she came to stand next to the piano, her hands on her hips looking down at Blaine where he stayed seated on the piano bench.

Blaine watched her confused, "Uh, playing the pia-"

"Not that, Blaine. That," Rachel said pointing towards the open door.

Blaine had no idea what was going on.

"I saw you, Blaine," Rachel said, "I saw both of you."

"Rachel, what are you-oh," Blaine said as everything dawned on him.

"Oh?" Rachel questioned, "I catch you sucking face with my ex-best friend and all you can say is, 'oh'?"

"Yes," Blaine said sheepishly and feeling a little bit guilty.

Rachel had been one of the main reasons that he and Kurt weren't exactly flaunting their relationship around school. But now she'd seen them together in the hallway and she was looking at him like he'd kicked a puppy right in front of her.

"How long as this been going on Blaine?" Rachel questioned.

"Well, I guess-"

"How long, Blaine?" Rachel asked again but this time Blaine could hear the hurt in her voice, the pain that envelops one when they've been betrayed.

Blaine stayed quiet. He thought for a moment what Kurt would want him to say to her. What if Blaine told her everything? Well maybe not everything, but what if Blaine told Rachel that what he and Kurt had was something special. Would Kurt be angry? Would that hurt Rachel more? He certainly couldn't lie to her, she'd seen them herself.

"About a month," Blaine finally said, his voice tiny fearful of Rachel's reaction.

"A month!" Rachel yelled and Blaine took a breath in preparation for whatever was coming, "You've been his boyfriend for a month and you've never even said anything to me."

"Rachel," Blaine said, "I'm sorry. We just decided until we figured everything out, we'd just kind of lay low."

"You're my friend, Blaine," Rachel said and Blaine could see the tears that had filled her eyes, waiting for the opportunity to trickle down her cheeks, "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? I've talked to you about this, about him, and you kept this from me and then you kept this from me. I didn't expect him to tell me, he's not my friend anymore. But I thought I would have heard it from you. Now, I feel betrayed."

"Rachel, I know that I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"Has he told you why?"

"Why what?"

"Why he stopped being my friend."

"No," Blaine said shaking his head slowly, "I asked, but he wouldn't answer me."

"If he told you," Rachel said softly, "Would you tell me?"

"Not if he asked me not to."

"I see," Rachel said turning away and walking over to a chair in the front row and began going through her bag, pulling out various pieces of sheet music to occupy herself.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Blaine said, "I really am."

"I know," Rachel said tucking her hair behind her ear, a gesture Blaine had come to learn she did when she was upset.

Blaine stayed at the piano bench as everyone else filed in, talking amongst themselves, not really noticing Rachel who had become reserved and quiet. He couldn't help but feel guilty. He'd been pouring salt into the wound she kept wide open and now she'd finally caught him red handed. It was then that Blaine began creating a plan. As he walked over to take a seat in the back row, Blaine became determined. He was going to fix Kurt and Rachel's relationship if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

Sundays usually sucked for Kurt. His uncle was home all day, so Kurt spent most of his day hiding in his bedroom, only coming out when it was absolutely necessary. Lately, Kurt could find refuge in the text messages he and Blaine would exchange throughout the day. On Sunday, Blaine usually did homework or would bake in the kitchen with his mom, but he would always send Kurt a text when something reminded him of Kurt, or when there was a story he wanted to tell.

But on this particular Sunday, Blaine was on a bus coming home from regionals, probably singing in honor of their victory, and wasn't as responsive as he usual. So while Kurt sat at his desk, fussing over a chemistry problem he didn't really care about, Blaine was having fun with his friends. These same friends used to be Kurt's, and Kurt couldn't help the combination of jealous and loneliness that washed over him. The feelings were slightly unreasonable, but they still ate away at him in the solitude of his bedroom.

Around lunchtime, Kurt decided to journey to the kitchen to get something to eat. While he stayed hidden most of the time, he had noticed the last couple Sundays that he could make it from his bedroom to the kitchen or the bathroom without Uncle Tim being aware of his presence. Kurt wasn't sure if his uncle was just ignoring him, or was actually so out of it that he didn't even notice, Kurt, but if the refrigerator door didn't make too much noise or the cabinet door didn't close loudly, Kurt could make it back to his room without incident.

He should have known today would be different.

Kurt kept his eyes on the brown carpet below his feet as he walked slowly towards the kitchen. But the moment he stepped into Uncle Tim's sight, Kurt could feel his uncle's gaze on him. Kurt froze and let the moment wash over him. He knew this feeling. He what it felt like when he realized that it was going to be a bad day. It had been so long since the last, but the uneasiness that built up inside him was familiar. He knew better than to try and run. He knew better than to raise his eyes. Now that Uncle Tim had spotted him, all he could do was stand there and take whatever was coming.

Normally Uncle Tim would spit hateful words at him first; tell him that he was a pain in the ass and a disgrace for his sexuality, his inability to be a real man. This time, the blow to the side of his face came first, followed by some muttering about interrupting the game. Kurt knew that what he really meant was that Kurt was an interruption to his life. Kurt managed to stay vertical but he staggered backwards a bit. He braced himself for more; another shot to the face, a shot to the gut, but they didn't' come. Breaking his own rules, Kurt looked up, but didn't' quite meet his uncle's eyes. What he found was Uncle Tim watching Kurt, his eyes void of any emotion, including anger, as they focused on Kurt.

Kurt could feel the bruise forming on his cheek as he stood in a standstill with his uncle. Kurt knew that one more, one twitch of a finger or an eye, could set Uncle Tim off again. He didn't understand why his uncle was just staring at him, watching him, but Kurt kept his body locked in place. When Uncle Tim's eyes shifted to meet Kurt's, Kurt fought the urge to shy away. The color of his uncle's eyes reminded him of his father's. They were the same shade of blue that once provided serenity, the protection of a father. But these were not his father's eyes; they were of a hateful man that had made the last year and a half of his life a living hell. Because of this man, Kurt had pushed away his best friend, he'd isolated himself from everything that made him happy, and he almost missed out on the opportunity to get close to the boy of his dreams. Because of the man in front of him, Kurt was on the first flight out of Ohio after graduation. He was running away, and never looking back.

Kurt waited for his uncle to make a move and after a moment Uncle Tim reached over and shoved Kurt's shoulders back causing Kurt to stumble backwards. And then Uncle Tim turned around like nothing had happened and settled back in the chair in front of the TV. He took a sip of his beer and his focused returned to the game. Kurt no longer had his attention.

Kurt scurried into the kitchen, grabbed a couple bottles of water, a bag of chips, a couple apples from the bowl on the counter, and one of the ice packs he kept in the freezer and retreated back to his room. He hated this part the most. This was the part where he had to pretend like there was nothing wrong. This was the part where he had to pretend that his cheek wasn't throbbing and that everything was okay, that he hadn't been punched in the face for absolutely no reason. He set the things from the kitchen on his desk and threw himself onto his bed so that he was looking up at the ceiling as he pressed the ice pack against his cheek. Like always, Kurt ran through the situation again in his mind. How could he have avoided the situation this time? How can he avoid it in the future? He couldn't, and he can't.

Kurt took a deep breath in and out through his nose and reached over to his phone on the nightstand. He had a text message from Blaine and smiled instantly despite the stinging beneath his eye. The message was simple, but for Kurt, it was the best thing that had happened to him that day.

_I miss you._

Kurt quickly responded that he missed Blaine too. Sitting there with an ice pack on his cheek, he missed him terribly. He missed the way Blaine made him smile and laugh and the way that Blaine held him. He missed the way Blaine would kiss him on the cheek while they were sitting at the table in the kitchen doing homework or on the couch watching TV.

It had been a bad day. It had been so long since he'd had one but the feelings, the pain, the hurt, the fear, were familiar. Even though he'd retreated to his room, Uncle Tim could walk in any moment and make things worse. But there was nowhere else for Kurt to hide. His room is the safest of the unsafe places for him today. But tomorrow there would be school and there would be Blaine, and for now, that was the closest that Kurt was going to get to the light at the end of the tunnel.

* * *

Seeing Blaine at school the next day had been everything Kurt hope it would be, with the exception of the fact that he had to settle for a kiss on his good cheek and some hand holding as a greeting. Kurt felt something shift inside himself the moment his eyes caught Blaine's smile down the hallway and all he wanted to do was wrap himself in Blaine and forget the rest of the world.

Blaine was buzzing with excitement about the New Directions wins at regionals and almost immediately began telling Kurt about some of the outrageous things that happened to them; most notably the story about how Brittany pushed Artie a little too hard on stage and he almost rolled into the orchestra pit, but they somehow managed to make it work and came home with a very large first place trophy.

"But do you know what the best news is?" Blaine asked a hint of whimsy in his voice.

"What could possibly be better than a first place trophy at regionals and the fact that you're going to nationals in Dallas?"

"Well" Blaine said drawing out the 'e' sound, "Despite Rachel's protest that we should immediately begin preparing for nationals, Mr. Shuester has given us the afternoon off from practice."

"Did he now?"

"He did," Blaine said, "And there was one thing that was absolutely terrible about this weekend."

Kurt's brow creased as he looked at Blaine expectedly.

"I missed you," Blaine said squeezing their intertwined hands,

"I missed you too."

"So do you think I could come over to your place after school? I conveniently forgot to tell my mother that there was no rehearsal, so she's expecting me to be out late."

This would be the first time that Kurt let Blaine in the house after a bad day. He wondered if Blaine could tell that the energy had shifted. That Blaine was sitting in held a secret, that Kurt had a secret. He forced himself not to push away. He'd been able to act his way through the first couple of months of this, he could do it again, couldn't he? He could sit in his kitchen with Blaine doing homework while playing footsie underneath the table all while his cheek was throbbing, the concealer running low but still able to hide the purple and blue that decorated his skin. If he could act like nothing was wrong, if he could forget that he should push Blaine from his life. He should push him away and forget that he ever existed. He should push away the feeling that he got every time that he was with Blaine. He felt safe with Blaine; and all he wanted to do was wrap himself up in Blaine forever. Kurt was falling so hard for Blaine that it made it harder to walk away. The urge to be with Blaine beat out the urge to run.

"Blaine Anderson, you rebel!" Kurt exclaimed with a laugh, "Yes, absolutely, yes you may come over tonight."

"Perfect," Blaine said a toothy smile on his face, "I have to get to class, but I'll see you in English."

"Absolutely."

Blaine leaned over and kissed his cheek, his bad cheek. The bruise beneath the makeup burned underneath the otherwise gentle touch of Blaine's lips on his skin. Kurt flinched at the pain and managed to stifle the gasp that had tried to escape through his lips by inhaling a sharp breath through his nose. Blaine didn't comment or even react to Kurt's gesture. Maybe he hadn't noticed. Maybe he thought nothing of it. When Blaine walked away, Kurt let out the breath he'd been holding, the additional burning on his cheek from the pressure of Blaine's kiss almost gone. In a couple of days the bruise would fade and everything would go back to its twisted version of normal.

* * *

"What is this?" Blaine questioned late Saturday afternoon on Kurt's couch where they located to finish their homework as the song playing on Kurt's iPod changed to something different than the usual mix of Broadway soundtracks and Pop songs. Blaine was pretty sure he'd heard it a couple of times before, but it was an oldie, and way outside of what he expected from Kurt Hummel.

"Mellencamp," Kurt answered simply, thinking nothing of Blaine's question as he eyes continued to scan through his history textbook.

"You listen to Mellencamp?" Blaine questioned.

"No, well, yeah, I-uh," Kurt sputtered before he took a deep breath and focused his eyes away from his textbook, but not at Blaine, but towards the speakers, "My dad did; a lot actually. And after he died, I took all of his CDs off the shelf and I put them on my computer. Sometimes I listen to them and I can just picture him bent over the engine of his truck in the garage, the sound of power tools and Mellencamp playing in the background."

"He sounds really awesome," Blaine said unsure what else he could say. This was the first time Kurt had really spoken about his family.

"He was," Kurt said his voice not much more than a whisper as a memory of helping his father in the garage a couple of weeks before he died played in his head, "He was the best dad anyone could ask for. I wish you could have met him. I think he would have liked you."

"I hope so."

Twenty minutes later school books were abandoned to the coffee table and the boys were both laying down on the couch, Blaine half on top of Kurt, kissing along Kurt's jawline. Kurt didn't think that there was anything that could spoil this moment; there was nothing that could take away the completeness he felt when Blaine was that close. That was until Blaine whispered "Rachel knows," against his throat before his lips pressed against his skin.

"Rachel knows what?" Kurt replied trying his best to stay in the moment with Blaine.

'Rachel knows about us," Blaine said after he removed his lips from Kurt and moved so he could look down at Kurt.

Kurt felt like he was falling so he sat up with a jolt bringing Blaine with him. Kurt's eyes were wide and focused on Blaine, "H-how does she know?"

"She-she saw us kissing in the hallway. Remember when you dragged me into the shadows of the hallway."

"You weren't complaining," Kurt bit out and he wasn't sure that he meant for his words to come out so harsh.

"I wasn't," Blaine said, "But she saw us and she cornered me in the choir room."

"And you just told her? You're just telling me now?

"I wasn't going to deny it, Kurt. She saw us," Blaine explained, "And I thought we weren't hiding this, just laying low."

"W-we aren't," Kurt said, "We aren't hiding, Blaine. I just-I just didn't want her to find out this way."

Blaine could hear the slight sadness in Kurt's voice as he spoke.

"She won't tell anyone. She promised it. She was actually really mad at me for not telling her when she found out, but I think she's happy for us. For both of us. She told me so on the way back from regionals."

Kurt didn't say anything. He couldn't help but feel guilty for hurting Rachel.

"Which leads me to my next question," Blaine said running the pad of his thumb along Kurt's cheek, his bad cheek, to get his attention and noticed how Kurt flinched under the tiny bit of pressure, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Kurt cursed himself. The bruise was almost a week old, and he had barely stung underneath Blaine's gentle touch, but Kurt's reaction was the same as if the black and blue hadn't begun to turn to greens and yellows.

"What? No, I'm fine," Kurt said quickly, "You had a question to ask me."

"Right," Blaine said watching Kurt curiously, "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Valentine's Day party Sugar is throwing?"

"Sugar Motta?"

"The one and only. Come on, Kurt. What do you say?"

"I don't know, Blaine."

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine whined, "Listen, I like you, a lot. And I'm pretty sure you like me. But we can't tell anyone and you pretty much just freaked out on me when you find out that Rachel knew. I can't help but sometimes feel like you don't want to be seen with me. You say we're not hiding, but sometimes I feel like we are. And I want to take you out for Valentine's Day. I want to take you, take us, out of his house and out of hiding. I want to show my boyfriend off to all my friends."

A sharp breath escaped from Kurt's lips and he was pretty sure that his heart was going to beat out of his chest. It was the first time either of them had used the term boyfriend and it made Kurt nervous. He was nervous, because if he was Blaine's boyfriend, then Blaine was his and he (totally not in the way you own property) to Kurt. But that also meant that Blaine could be taken away, or lost. And if he allowed himself to be Blaine's (but wasn't he already?) then the loss could be so much greater.

"You can think about it, Kurt," Blaine said, "I just really want to do this. I really think we should."

Kurt nodded. He would think about it. And there was a lot of thinking to do. Because the moment 'boyfriend' came out of Blaine's mouth, everything stopped being about avoiding the kids from glee. That was no longer the issue. Now this came to be about becoming, officially, something more with Blaine; Something that lived outside the walls of the living room and the house. And while he wanted nothing more than to be with Blaine, the thought of exposing their special secret to the world scared him to death.

"Hey, what's that," Blaine said, his hand returning to cup his bad cheek, "Kurt, is that a bruise?"

Kurt froze. He was certain that he had put enough concealer on that morning to cover the blemish. But Blaine's hands had been on his face and some of it must have come off. He silently cursed Uncle Tim for hitting him in the face.

Kurt froze under Blaine's touch. He was certain that he had put enough concealer on that morning to cover the blemish, to keep the secret hidden from Blaine. But Blaine's hand had been on his face and some of it must have come off. He silently cursed Uncle Tim for hitting him in the face. Any other place on his body he could hide with clothing, but as much as he tried to hide this it was staring Blaine's concerned eyes in the face.

"I-uh," Kurt spoke and when he realized that there was nothing he could say to explain this away to Blaine, he stayed quiet.

"Kurt, what happened?" Blaine asked reaching for Kurt's hand, but Kurt pulled away before he could clasp them together.

"I think you need to go, Blaine," Kurt said his voice soft as he tried to keep the tears that he so desperately wanted to cry from running down his cheeks.

"What?"

"Please, Blaine," Kurt pleaded, "Just go."

Baffled, Blaine pulled himself up off the couch and walked over to the kitchen table to grab his bag and the books that were on the table. He had no idea what was going on, what had just happened, but Kurt was sitting on the couch just starting out the window, avoiding Blaine.

"Kurt—"Blaine said as he started to walk towards Kurt's front door.

"I'll see you on Monday," Kurt said his gaze never leaving the dark clouds that were gliding along the sky above him.

Kurt didn't look as Blaine left the house, he only heard the door shut behind Blaine and Kurt watched through the window as Blaine walked to his car, casting the occasional gaze towards the house like he was expecting Kurt to run out after him, tell him that he was sorry. Kurt watched as Blaine pulled his car out of the driveway and down the street until it turned left at the stop sign and disappeared from sight. It was only then that Kurt pulled himself from the couch, grabbed his things, bringing them into his bedroom and dropping them onto the floor next to the door before shutting it behind him. He didn't care about the mess; he just wanted this day to be over, for this school year to go over. He wanted a life where he didn't have to worry about someone finding a bruise or a cut on him and him having to explain it away. Then he wouldn't have to see the pained look on Blaine's face when he pushed him away. Because that's the only way Kurt knew how to deal with any of it. He knew how to push everyone away until he was alone. Until there was no one left but himself to deal with everything. He'd done it to Rachel, and now he'd done it to Blaine. The thought broke something inside Kurt and the tears fell freely as he collapsed onto his bed. He held his pillow tight against his chest as he cried. He cried for every bad thing in his life that led him to that moment. And for the first time in months he felt like he was alone.

Five months to go he reminded himself as he drifted off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 10

**AN:** How are we doing in this post Klaine break up world? It's not fun, I don't like it. But in good time everything will be okay. Until then...here's chapter 10!

I'd like to throw a big thank you out there to everyone who reads/reviews/favorites/whatevers this. Especially because I don't update as often as I'd like. I'm terrible at responding to reviews but I read every single one of them and I love them all! You guys are seriously awesome!

So anyway...if you're reading this, I think you're awesome! Let me know what you think!

On we go!

* * *

Kurt took the rest of the weekend to think about everything, but mostly about Blaine. All day Sunday, Kurt spent the time he was locked in his room scrolling through all the text messages Blaine had sent him in the last month or so. Every flirty text; every 'I miss you' text sent twenty minutes after Blaine had left the house; every random story that Blaine just had to tell Kurt about; they were all there. And Kurt couldn't help but smile as he read them while something fluttered inside him the same way it had when he'd first received the messages.

Then there were the two text messages that Kurt had been ignoring. One was sent Saturday night, long after Kurt had cried himself to sleep, and one Sunday afternoon, both from Blaine, both begging for Kurt to call him. Both caused a knot to form and tighten in Kurt's gut. Because Blaine was pleading with Kurt as if he'd done something wrong, and he hadn't. If anything, Blaine should have been rewarded for his concern, not thrown out of the house without an explanation. But there wasn't an explanation Kurt could offer, especially when he had been caught off guard. There wasn't anything he could say to distract from the fact that Blaine had seen the bruise on his cheek; that somehow through all the effort that Kurt went through to hide that part of his life from Blaine, Blaine had gotten a glimpse.

So Kurt was now with two choices. He could run from Blaine. He'd done it to Rachel; he could do it to Blaine, couldn't he? He thought back to the first time Rachel had seen a bruise on his arm. The panic that vibrated through his body was overwhelming and he stuttered through her questioning glance. When she questioned him again on after a different bad day, Kurt knew that he couldn't keep explaining away everything. He could tell her the truth and blow up his entire life, or he could avoid the situation again by pushing her and his friends away and getting by with just himself to rely on. Because pushing her away seemed easier than hiding every bruise and cut. Then, things had only just started to get really bad and looking back on every bad day and Kurt knew he'd made the right decision. If he'd tried to hide the proof of the situation, someone was likely to find out.

But things were different now. Yes, he'd had a bad day and Blaine had seen the bruise, but it had been the first bad day in months. Uncle Tim was hardly around unless it was a Sunday and Kurt could manage those. He was certain there would be more days, but while he once could tell you they'd be three times a week, now he struggled to tell you exactly when the next one would occur. If he could get himself and Blaine past this one time, they could go back to what they were, they could go back to being _boyfriends _and nothing would change.

It came down to how safe Kurt felt he needed to play. If he wanted to prevent Blaine from ever seeing another souvenir of his bad days with Uncle Tim, then he'd have to push Blaine away despite how much it would hurt them both. It was cowardly, but it was the only way to guarantee that his secret would be safe. Or he could take a risk. He always thought about the risks he took in regards to Blaine and it turned out to be worth it each time. With the risk came happiness. Without it he was nothing but alone.

So laying in the dark on the verge of sleep Sunday night, Kurt made a decision. He reached over to the night stand and grabbed his phone, sending Blaine a text. It offered nothing in terms of reassurance for Blaine, only echoed the last words he'd spoken to him before he kicked him out of his house.

_I'll see you tomorrow._

* * *

Blaine was already at his locker when Kurt entered the hallway the next morning. He approached Blaine slowly, cautiously; as if Blaine might see him and remember what an ass he'd been on Saturday and run away. And Kurt wouldn't have been able to blame him one bit.

"Hey," Kurt said hesitantly as he came to stand next to Blaine. He didn't fiddle with his locker because he didn't want any distractions when he spoke to Blaine.

"Oh, you're talking to me now," Blaine said.

_Ouch._

"I deserve that," Kurt said, "Blaine. I-I was out of line Saturday."

"Yeah, a little," Blaine said the sting in his words less, but still evident.

"No, a lot. Blaine, I—I just panicked and I wasn't thinking and I was incredibly rude. I'm sorry."

"Why were you panicking?" Blaine questioned.

"Because I've never been someone's boyfriend before," Kurt said, hoping if he didn't bring up the bruise on his face, Blaine would forget about it, "And if you haven't noticed, I haven't really been anybody's anything in a while, so I got a little freaked out."

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, Kurt," Blaine said a slight whimper in his voice not going unnoticed by Kurt whose heart ached at the sound.

"But I want to," Kurt said immediately, "And I'm sorry for the way I acted on Saturday. And if you forgive me, I'm going to make it up to you."

"J-just tell me when you're freaking out 'c-cause I've never been anyone's boyfriend either. "

"You haven't?"

"No. So if we're going to panic, let's do it together."

"Deal."

"You don't have to do anything special to make it up to me either."

"Yes, I do. Because, you see, there is this Valentine's Day party and I'd really like it if my boyfriend would take me." Kurt said. The way the word boyfriend rolled off Kurt's lips brought a smile to his face, as well as Blaine's.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Kurt said, "But you've got to promise me one thing."

"Name it."

"Don't tell Rachel," Kurt said but immediately saw the flicker of something in Blaine's eye, like maybe everything wasn't as solid as he thought it was. So he quickly added, "I want to surprise her."

"I already told her I wasn't going so that shouldn't be a problem."

"You weren't going because of me?"

"No singles allowed. I-I didn't know..."

Kurt launched himself at Blaine, wrapping his arms around his neck holding him tightly, glad when he felt Blaine's arms wrap around his waist. It was easy to forget why he'd been so scared before when Blaine held him close. This was the only place in the world he ever wanted to be.

"Well you're going, and so am I," Kurt said as the warning bell rang, "And now we're going to be late."

"I'll see you in English," Blaine said with a smile.

"I'll see you in English," Kurt repeated and leaned over and kissed Blaine on his cheek.

It wasn't often that either boy showed such intimacy in the middle of the hallway, but this time felt different. This time there were no quick glances to make sure no one was looking. This time, for Kurt, was about showing Blaine that he was ready for this. For them. And he didn't care who knew it.

* * *

It had been years since Kurt had been to Breadstix. The last time he'd been there, he was almost certain, he was with Rachel and her dads just after his dad died; when Uncle Tim had yet to become a monster. He stood next to Blaine's car as the other boy rummaged through his glove box for something. From where he stood, Kurt could hear the music that came from inside; he felt the bass as it vibrated off the walls.

And suddenly, he was terrified.

Despite the constant reassurance from Blaine that those Kurt used to call his friends would accept him back with open arms, Kurt couldn't help but feel guilty from everything he'd done to them; most importantly, to Rachel.

Because as much as he wanted the understanding of all his friends, it was Rachel's acceptance he wanted, no, _needed_ the most. She had been his best friend and he tossed her to the side without a word. Kurt knew that it hurt her more than anyone else when he isolated himself from everything and everyone he loved. And Kurt knew that was because they were most than just best friends, they were family. He'd abandoned his family and that realization made the pang of guilt in his chest grow ten-fold. He couldn't change what he had done, but he was here now. And he was hoping with everything that he had that at least Rachel would be able to forgive him.

Kurt felt something warm encompass his hand and he looked down to see Blaine's fingers entwined with his own.

"You're freaking out," Blaine commented.

"Just a little bit," Kurt said trying to smile.

"I told you Kurt—"

"I know. But it doesn't change what I've done."

"We don't have to go in there Kurt," Blaine said, "I know I wanted to but if this makes you too uncomfortable we can just go somewhere else. No one is expecting me to be here."

"No," Kurt said taking a deep breath to center himself, "I need to do this. I want to do this. But if everyone one hates me you'll still be here right?"

"Absolutely," Blaine said leaning over and placing a kiss against Kurt's cheek.

"Then let's go," Kurt said taking a step towards the building, his hand clasped tightly around Blaine's.

While Kurt could always appreciate a grand entrance, he was not at all prepared for the one he made when he walked into Breadstix with Blaine at his side. It felt almost planned that the music would stop as he crossed the threshold; that suddenly everyone and everything was quiet and all eyes were on him. Kurt fought the urge to run; he held tightly to Blaine's hand allowing the feeling of his boyfriend's warm hand keep him planted where he stood. His eyes scanned over the restaurant. There were tables and tables of people he didn't know. But next to the stage were a group of tables full of mostly familiar faces. He heard he gasp before his eyes even found her. But when he did, her eyes were wide and her jaw slightly open. And even from a distance he could tell that there were tears in her eyes. In an instant she was out of her chair and disappearing behind the door to the women's washroom.

"I'll be right back," Kurt said untangling his hand from Blaine's and making a beeline towards the washrooms.

No one said a word as Kurt pushed the door to the women's washroom and found Rachel bent over one of the bathroom's six sinks. Kurt stood silently just inside the door and could only watch as the tears rolled down Rachel's cheeks. But he needed to say something. Even if he couldn't tell her anything, he had to be the one to speak.

"Rachel—"Kurt started.

"No," Rachel shouted turning towards him, her index finger pointed in his direction, and he could fully see the hurt and anger in her eyes, "You don't get to do this. You don't get to just waltz back in here and talk to me like that Kurt Hummel, it isn't fair."

"I know, Rachel. I'm sorry, I just—"

"Why?" Rachel asked, "After all this time you owe me that. You owe me an explanation and not that crap that Mr. Shuester told me. Because I didn't believe it then, and I don't believe it now. I want the truth Kurt. I want to know why you tossed us, why you tossed _me_ to the side and pretended like you didn't know us, like we didn't mean anything to you. I want to know why I lost my best friend."

Kurt could feel the tears welling up in his own eyes as he watched fresh tears fall from Rachel's eyes leaving wet trails down her cheeks. She wanted an explanation and he knew that he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't tell her the truth without telling the secret he'd been holding inside himself for so long. But he wished he could. He only now could hope that she could accept him back into her life without an actual explanation, but a promise to one day tell her everything. It was all he would be able to offer at the moment.

"Rachel," Kurt started, "I-I can't tell you why I did it. Not really, not yet. But I want to, someday, maybe after we graduate. B-but I'm here now. And I've missed you so much. You deserve to hear the truth, and I promise you that one day you will, but can you accept this as my apology, at least for now. I'd really like to have my best friend back."

Rachel was quiet except for her sniffling nose as she struggled to get her crying under control. Kurt watched her anxiously. She could not forgive him and walk out of that bathroom. He deserved it if she did. And the longer Rachel stayed quiet, the longer she just stood there without any deciding emotion on her face, the more certain Kurt was that she would leave him in the ladies room of Breadstix and he would have to crawl with his tail between his legs back to Blaine and beg him never to leave his side. But then he saw it; so incredibly tiny that he would have missed it if he wasn't so desperately searching for it. The corner of Rachel's lips lifted upward just the tiniest bit until it morphed into a giant, Rachel Berry, smile right before she launched herself into Kurt's willing arms which wrapped around her so tightly as if he didn't hold on tight enough, she would float away.

"Don't you dare leave me like that again Kurt Hummel," Rachel whispered as she cried into the crook of Kurt's neck, "do you hear me? Don't you ever. I can't take it."

Kurt responded only by squeezing Rachel a little tighter against him and whispering "I'm sorry" against her hair.

When Rachel pulled away her eyes were red and puffy, but she was smiling.

"I probably look terrible," Rachel said walking towards the mirror wiping what was left of the tears from her face.

"You look beautiful," Kurt said honestly.

"Well I haven't been this happy in a long time," Rachel said throwing a smile in Kurt's direction, "I guess that outweighs the puffy eyes huh?

"I'd like to think so," Kurt said, "We should probably get out of there. I'd imagine a long line of girls waiting for the boy to leave the bathroom so they can powder their nose."

Rachel laughed then launched herself back into Kurt's arms holding him tight. Kurt wouldn't be bothered one bit if they just stayed like this. He'd missed this _so _much.

"I got into NYADA," Rachel said still clinging to him.

Kurt felt a new round of tears gather in his eyes. Since before they were even teenagers, all Rachel and Kurt had dreamed about was going to college in New York and then living there. Rachel would be the star of the Broadway stage winning Tonys and being the star she was destined to be. And Kurt would be there right alongside her, designing her outfits for galas and award shows while making a name for himself in the world of fashion.

"I got into Parsons," Kurt told her.

Even now, saying that sounded so strange. Like it was still nothing but a dream. But that was the light at the end of this terrible tunnel wasn't it? Going off to New York and doing everything he'd always planned. Making something of himself so that he could look back on these years and know that things were better than they once were. And now, despite everything, he would be able to do it with his best friend by his side. The entire dream seemed to be coming true now. There was no more settling for only parts of it.

"I'll wait until tomorrow to begin discussing our New York living arrangements," Rachel said removing herself from Kurt.

"You're really forgiving me for everything just like that?" Kurt said cautiously. He needed to make sure this wasn't a dream or a joke that Rachel was playing. He needed to make sure that the thing he'd thought about the most over the last year, Rachel being his best friend again, was actually happening.

"Of course," Rachel said grabbing onto Kurt's hand, "You're still my best friend. And you'll tell me one day right? Now I think your boyfriend and the rest of our friends are waiting for us."

Kurt nodded silently in response to Rachel's question then let her guide them through the door and back into the restaurant.

Once they were bath with the others they found that the party had continued on without them; except for Blaine. Blaine was standing exactly where Kurt had left him leaning against one of the decorative railings that divided the restaurant into sections. Kurt smiled at Rachel who moved back to join the curious eyes of New Directions, before heading over to Blaine.

"Hey," Kurt said as he approached Blaine from behind, his heart fluttering when Blaine turned around at the sound of his voice with a smile on his face.

"Hey yourself," Blaine responded, "Everything go okay?"

"Everything went just fine."

"I told you it would," Blaine said.

"This doesn't mean I'm going assume you're right about everything."

"I'll remember that," Blaine said laughing, "So you don't need me to hide you in the corner all night?"

"Not all night," Kurt said with a smirk, "But thank you for offering."

Kurt leaned in and pressed a kiss to Blaine's cheek which shifted beneath Kurt's lips as Blaine's smile grew in response.

"Rachel's staring at me like if I don't get you back over there she's going to poison me."

Kurt laughed and turned his head to look at his friend who was watching them with anticipating eyes then turned back to Blaine, "She'd never do that, you're her male lead. Plus, I'd have to stop talking to her if she did that and I don't think she'd do that to herself."

"I'm glad you two made up," Blaine said smiling.

"Me too," Kurt said reaching down and tangling Blaine's fingers with his own, "Now let's go because now I can feel her glare burning into the back of my head."

Both boys laughed and Blaine followed Kurt toward the New Directions table.

* * *

If Blaine was upset that he spent most of Sugar's party alongside Kurt, mostly quiet as Kurt became reacquainted with his friends, he never showed it. And the truth was he wasn't bother in the least. Because the entire time Kurt was talking to Tina, his hand was firmly in Blaine's occasionally skimming his thumb across the skin of his hand. And while was talking to Brittany about Lord Tubbington, his arm was around Blaine's waist. And most importantly, Kurt had a smile on his face the entire time. So there was nothing to complain about, especially when a slow song came on and Kurt tugged his hand, led him to the dance floor, wrapped his arms around his neck and swayed them to the music. It's perfect and everything Blaine hoped the night would be.

The first thing Blaine noticed when he pulled into Kurt's driveway afterward was there was a silver Civic parked in the driveway. He'd never seen the car, or any car for that matter, at Kurt's until now. He knew that Kurt's uncle worked over nights and was hardly home at the same time Kurt was. Blaine could see from inside the car that the light over the kitchen table was on and assumed someone must be home. Blaine glanced over at Kurt was taken aback by Kurt's appearance. All the blood seemed to have drained from Kurt's face; his eyes were wide and his jaw slack. His gaze directed towards the house.

"Hey, are you okay?" Blaine questioned and his voice seemed to knock Kurt from his concentrated gaze of the house, but he still looked shaken, scared even.

"Ye-Yeah," Kurt managed, "M-my U-uncle's home. I wasn't expecting him for a long time."

"Oh, well we can just hang out in your room then. We won't bother him."

"No," Kurt countered, his voice higher and louder than he had intended, "He-He doesn't like me having people in the house. He doesn't exactly know you come over almost every day; or at all really."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Kurt said removing his eyes from Blaine and placing them back on the dimly lit house while he tried to keep his voice steady , "s-so I'll call you tomorrow morning about our lunch-s-slash-study date okay?"

"O-okay, yeah that's fine," Blaine said leaning in to kiss Kurt goodnight, but was met with only air because Kurt had burst from the car and was already heading up the driveway, never glancing back.

Blaine pulled out of the driveway slowly, watching as Kurt disappeared into the house. Behind the curtains of the picture window, Blaine could see the shadow of a tall man standing what looked like the kitchen table. Another shadow, Kurt's, was joining the first as Blaine put the car into drive and took off down the street.

* * *

AN: Warning, there's some angst coming.


	12. Chapter 11

**AN:** I'm sorry this took so long, but this chapter is kind of important and it took me longer than I had planned to make it acceptable to be put out into the world.

So, I love you guys for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy this.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

He'd never been that scared before. He'd never crawled into bed after a beating and been so afraid to go to sleep. Not until now. Not until tonight. His left eye was swollen shut, tears leaking from the right. His lip had been busted and was bleeding and his ribs were bruise so much that he hurt to take deep breaths. But that's all he could do. Breathe, lie there, and listen for any sign that Uncle Tim was coming back for him; that he was going to punish him further. This had been the first time Kurt thought he actually might need a doctor, but all he wanted was Blaine, or Rachel, and neither of them had ever felt so far away.

To say he'd been shocked to see Uncle Tim's car in the driveway when Blaine dropped him off after Sugar's party would have been the understatement of the century. The moment Kurt's eyes spotted the silver civic, his heart stopped, the blood in his veins grew cold and in a moment his perfect night had gone to hell. He couldn't help but leave Blaine confused in the car and he knew that each time his phone lit up that it was Blaine. And now that he knew that Uncle Tim was so good at his shitty job that they gave him a promotion that put him on the day shift, he also knew that after tonight he'd never be able to see Blaine outside of school again.

When Kurt walked through the front door, he found his uncle standing over the kitchen table, the art set Blaine had gotten him for Christmas and some other things that had clearly been taken from his bedroom were scattered on the wooden surface. He didn't accuse Uncle Tim of going through his room because he knew exactly who the response would be. It was Uncle Tim's house, Kurt was lucky enough to live in it and if he wanted to go through Kurt's room, he could because everything was his. Kurt couldn't agree with that logic because clearly, the art set was a gift. Kurt took a moment to glance around at the other things that had been taken from his room; his sketchbook, a notebook and a wooden picture frame that held a picture of himself and Blaine that Blaine had taken on his phone during school and printed out.

Uncle Tim didn't start by asking Kurt where he had been or who had been with; no, the first words out of Uncle Tim's mouth made Kurt's mouth go dry and his heart stop in his chest.

"_Who is Blaine Anderson?"_

At his uncle's question, Kurt struggled to keep his face void of any emotion. There was no way that Uncle Tim could possibly know anything about Blaine. Kurt's eyes glanced back at the table and with a closer look he realized the notebook sitting there wasn't his own, it was Blaine's. He'd left it there on Saturday and he kept forgetting to bring it back to school. It had been sitting on his desk underneath his sketchbook. It was only when Uncle Tim repeated his question, the anger now dripping from his tongue did Kurt look up into the bloodshot eyes that he'd learned to hate.

"H-he's just a friend from school. We have English together. He takes better notes so he let me borrow them,"

"English, huh?" Uncle Tim questioned picking up the notebook from the table and flipping through the pages, "Because, Kurt, this is full of trigonometry notes. The inside of the cover even says so."

_Shit._

"W-we have the same Trig teacher," Kurt said and only had a second to feel proud of himself for coming up with that on the spot, but Kurt could tell by the way that Uncle Tim's eyes narrowed that he hadn't bought it.

"Have you been having people in the house, Kurt?"

"No, of course not," Kurt lied.

"You're a very poor liar, Kurt," Uncle Tim said putting the notebook down on the table and picking up the picture of him and Blaine.

"And this ridiculous looking kid in the picture with you? Is that Blaine Anderson?" Uncle Tim asked, "And before you try lying to me again, know that I found a Blaine Anderson on Facebook who happens to have this very picture on his profile."

Kurt remained silent and cursed modern technology and whatever else he could curse that had led him to this moment. The moment he wasn't afraid for himself, but afraid for Blaine. He wasn't sure that his uncle would actually follow through with but there was a hint of something in his uncle's voice that made him worry.

"Is he your boyfriend, Kurt?" Uncle Tim asked and Kurt couldn't help but cringe at the disgust in his uncle's voice, "Have you kissed him Kurt? Have you touched him with your disgusting hands in my house?"

Kurt knew that speaking was a guarantee that he wouldn't to make it to bed unscathed and there was no use in lying. He wasn't even sure he could come up with something even remotely convincing. Drunk or not, his uncle wasn't blind. How could he have been so stupid as to allow this to happen?

Kurt's silence was proven pointless when Uncle Tim shouted for an answer a moment before something collided with the side of left side of Kurt's face, just underneath his eye. Kurt's hand immediately flew up to his cheek as the throbbing began and he could feel the blood beginning to seep from the torn skin and onto his hand. His eyes flickered quickly toward Uncle Tim who was holding the framed picture of himself and Blaine in his hand, the glass plate now cracked. He'd used it as a weapon.

He tried not to think about the rest as he lay silently in bed. He tried not to think about how the first five minutes seemed to last forever, or how he somehow managed to escape into his bedroom and shut the door. About how he waited for an hour just standing in front of the door, ready if Uncle Tim burst through, even angrier than before now that Kurt had tried to get away. When he didn't come, Kurt retreated to his bed, trembling on top of his covers, afraid to get comfortable, afraid to make the smallest movements. Afraid to do anything but breathe and wait.

Kurt spent the rest of the weekend in his room, only coming out when, by some miracle, he heard his uncle leave the house and when he could hear the loud snoring coming from his bedroom. He'd sketched quietly on his bed, afraid that even the tiniest cough would remind his uncle that he was in here and he'd come back for round two.

His phone, now on silent, went off at least twenty times a day. Calls and texts, mostly from Blaine, wondering where he was and if he still wanted Blaine to come over. He should've answered that one, but he didn't. He couldn't pretend everything was all right when it had never been farther from the truth. Plus, he knew it would make the next part easier. Easier, but more painful than any blow he'd ever taken.

* * *

Kurt didn't show up to school on Monday and when he still wasn't there Tuesday afternoon, Blaine was beginning to get seriously worried. He'd called Kurt probably close to a hundred times, each time only getting Kurt's voice via his voicemail. And in between phone calls there were several text messages and a couple of emails; all of which went unanswered. When Blaine walked into Glee club, Rachel was already sitting in the front row of the maroon plastic chairs searching through her phone. Normally Blaine would find Rachel immersed in sheet music or putting the final touches on her weekly solo. But she looked distracted until she looked up and spotted Blaine.

"Have you heard from Kurt?" they both said in unison.

If they hadn't both been so concerned, they would have laughed at their synchronicity, but they didn't. They didn't because it had been four days and neither of the two most important people in Kurt's life had heard from him.

"I haven't seen him since Sugar's party," Rachel said.

"He hasn't returned my calls or my texts since I dropped him off Friday night."

"And he seemed alright? Everything was okay when you dropped him off?"

"He spent the entire ride to his house talking about you and New York and then he got a little...I don't know...quiet when I pulled into his driveway. His uncle was home and—"

"His uncle?" Rachel questioned looking, if possible, slightly more concerned than she'd been a moment before. But it wasn't concern as much as it was fear.

"Well, there was a car in the driveway that I'd never seen before and I could see someone was home."

"So you left him at home with his uncle?" Rachel

"He said I couldn't come in because his uncle was home and he told me leave. What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know, but Blaine I'm worried. I've always been worried."

"Always?" Blaine questioned, "What do you mean, always?"

"I mean," Rachel said floundering, something that Blaine had never seen her do, "I don't know what I mean, and it's always just been like a guess. But it doesn't matter Blaine, go over there. I'll tell Mr. Shuester you're not feeling well and you go over to Kurt's."

Blaine looked uneasy for a moment, he wasn't sure how to process Rachel's insistence and he still wanted to know what she meant when she said she was always worried. But he couldn't focus too much on that because he needed to listen to her and go see Kurt. He needed to see him because he missed him and he was worried and the look on Rachel's face was unnerving.

"If you don't go, I will," Rachel said pulling Blaine away from his thoughts.

"Y-yeah," Blaine said focusing, "I'll go. I'll text you and let you know what happens."

Blaine tightened the grip on his bag and turned towards the door. He had to hurry and get out of the choir room before anyone, especially Mr. Shuester arrived.

"Have him call me, would you?" Rachel called.

Blaine stopped for only a moment to nod in Rachel's direction before he took off toward the parking lot.

* * *

He was playing hooky because of the giant bruise on his eye, but Kurt couldn't bring himself to enjoy the luxuries of having the house to himself. He spent the eight hours that Uncle Tim wasn't home sitting on his bed sketching or catching up on whatever homework he could get done without all of his books. When he'd called the school, pretending to be Uncle Tim, he told the attendance office that he had mono and it had bought him at least a week out of school. He'd probably need a doctor's note for anything longer and that certainly wasn't going to happen. He was half way through a sketch for an assignment he'd seen online as part of the Parsons curriculum when the doorbell rang. On instinct, he stiffened, and a sickening wave of terror welled up in his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time the doorbell had rang or the last time there had been anyone other than Blaine in his house. The front door was unlocked and it was only just after three; his uncle wasn't due home for another two and a half hours. Cautiously, he set his sketchbook down on his comforter and moved slowly towards the door.

"Kurt?" a voice called that he immediately recognized as Blaine's.

What was he doing here? He should have been in Glee club not ringing his doorbell calling his name. What if his uncle had been home? What if he came home early to find Blaine standing on the doorstep? He'd recognize Blaine immediately from the picture. What would happen? Would he hurt Blaine? Blaine rang the doorbell again, repeating his name.

"Kurt," Blaine shouted, 'I know you're in there, your car is out front."

"Go away, Blaine," Kurt said as he stood directly in front of the front door but made no efforts to open it.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, "You haven't answered anyone's phone calls. Rachel and I have been so worried."

"Blaine, please just go back to Glee," Kurt pleaded.

"Kurt, just open the door," Blaine begged.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Blaine questioned, "Kurt is something wrong?"

"No. Everything is fine; I just can't open the door. Please just go."

"No," Blaine said sharply. Kurt was surprised by the tone in his voice.

"Blaine, I-"

"You what?"

"I can't," Kurt said leaning against the big door. He wanted to open it; wanted to let Blaine in. Because all he'd really wanted since Friday night was for Blaine to hold him and tell him everything would be alright. But nothing was alright and they certainly wouldn't be if he opened the door right now.

"Can't what?"

"We can't be together anymore Blaine," Kurt said trying to keep his voice from breaking and betraying him to Blaine, "I-I'm, I'm breaking up with you."

"Kurt—"

"It's for the best Blaine," Kurt continued through the lump in his throat, "I'm leaving for New York at the end of the school year and you still have another year of high school left."

"We can work something out."

"No, Blaine. We can't."

"Well if you're going to break up with me, at least be man enough to tell me to my face," Blaine bit out. Kurt had made Blaine angry and the fact that he was hurting Blaine tore at his heart, but calmed him at the same time. If Blaine hated him, then it would be it much easier to put distance between them, "Don't just shut me out like you do everyone else and pretend like ignoring us will make everything acceptable. Because it's not Kurt. It's not acceptable and it's not fair."

"I promised myself that when I left Lima, when I finally escaped all of this madness that I would leave every single thing behind. And I meant it."

"Including me?"

"Yes," Kurt cried, "And I'm sorry I can't do this in a way that you see as fair but it wasn't fair of me to let us happen. It was stupid and it was selfish because I've known all along that once I graduate, I'm gone. It isn't fair for me to keep pretending that it isn't true or to think that us being together is going to change that."

"So that's it," Blaine said through the door, "Just like that you're going to throw everything away again?"

"I don't have a choice."

"So this is it?"

"Yeah, I think it is. It has to be."

"You suck," Blaine said, "You know that right?"

"I'm sorry."

"You know what? Fine," Blaine shouted, "Goodbye Kurt."

Kurt remained silent as he listened to Blaine leave the porch. He waited for the sound of the engine of Blaine's car and for the gentle rumble as it took off down the street, before sliding to the floor and bringing his knees to his chest as the tears began falling rapidly down his swollen cheeks. He let out a strangled sob even though he knew that this was coming. He knew it would happen. But he wished he could have done it the right way; maybe hurt Blaine a little less. But like everything else, things never went as he'd planned them.

He reminisced for a moment, realizing that Blaine had been one of those things in his life that he didn't plan. Blaine happened to him by happenstance, and was the greatest thing he'd never wanted. But once he had him, it was all he wanted. But he wanted his mom, and his dad, and his friends. And that followed suit with the rest of his life. Because everyone he'd ever wanted, was gone.

* * *

Blaine made it back to McKinley just as Mr. Shuester was finishing up his lesson. He waited in the hallway out of sight of everyone else until Rachel exited the choir room, last, latching on to her arm and tugging her down the hallway where they weren't surrounded by the other members of New Directions.

"Did you talk to him?" Rachel asked her voice edged with tension.

"Yeah," Blaine said with a hitch in his voice.

"So why hasn't he been to school?" Rachel interrogated.

"I don't know," Blaine said flatly, "He wouldn't tell me."

"He wouldn't tell you? Well did he look sick?"

"He," Blaine said before pausing a moment, trying to collect himself because he wasn't sure what the hell had just happened, but he was sure that Kurt had just broken up with him and the ache in his chest was unbearable., "He never opened the door. He just talked to me through it."

"Well, what did he say?"

"He broke up with me."

"He did what?" Rachel questioned her voice shrill, "Why?"

"Something about going to New York at the end of the school year and leaving everything behind and how it wasn't fair to me if we kept pretending it wasn't going to happen. I mean I guess it makes sense but I just don't understand. We were so h-happy on Friday night," Blaine said unable to keep his voice from cracking. Because Friday night there had been a moment, out on the dance floor, wrapped around each other that he knew that he was in love with Kurt. He had planned on telling him that night, with all the hope in the world that he'd hear Kurt say it back. But now he'd never get the chance to say it, and it was clear that Kurt would never say it back.

"What? Are you sure you heard him correctly?"

"I think I'd make sure I understood when it came to my boyfriend breaking up with me," Blaine responded obviously annoyed with Rachel constant questioning that was doing absolutely nothing other than reiterating the fact that Kurt had broken up with him, through the door, after not speaking to him for days.

"Okay, calm down. Something isn't right here."

"You think?"

"I'll go over there and talk to him. He's been avoiding me too. And there is no way that I'm going to let him break up with _me_! Not again."

Blaine watched mutely as Rachel took off down the hall. When she disappeared around the corner Blaine walked slowly through the empty hallways towards his locker, and then he stopped. How was he supposed to do this? Eventually Kurt would come back to school and eventually they would both be at their lockers, the place where everything started. Kurt had broken his heart and now he'd have to spend every day being constantly reminded of it. Blaine decided against going to his locker, deciding that sacrificing his History assignment was worth avoiding his locker and the fresh wounds on his heart.

He wasn't going to get any homework done anyway. All he wanted to do was go home and try to ignore the pain and the emptiness in his heart.

* * *

Rachel was grateful that when she pulled into Kurt's driveway, there was only one car sitting there. It had been made clear that Uncle Tim didn't want visitors in his house and Rachel and Kurt had respected his wishes before. Between Uncle Tim's ban on friends and her estrangement from Kurt, Rachel hadn't been to the house in almost two years. The outside looked worn, especially against the tiny bit of snow that had begun to fall and stick to the ground.

Rachel got out of her car and walked up to the front door and knocked loudly. There was no response from inside and she knew that Kurt was probably avoiding the door assuming it was Blaine. Taking a risk, Rachel reached for the doorknob and was grateful to find that it turned easily with the flick of her wrist.

The inside of the house was nothing like she remembered it. The furniture had been rearranged and some of the pictures and decorations had been taken down from the wall making it look less like a home and more like a bunch of rooms. The kitchen table could be seen from the doorway and was covered in what looked like a bunch of Kurt's things. But they were only his possessions; Kurt himself was nowhere to be seen.

"Kurt Hummel, you get out here right now!" Rachel shouted

A moment Kurt came running from down the hallway, "Rachel! What are you doing here?"

But Rachel didn't hear him. She was frozen in place by his physical appearance. His eye, even though much of the swelling had gone down since Friday night, was still heavily bruised and his cut lip was swollen. He looked like he'd gone to fight club with Puck.

But Rachel hadn't heard him. She was frozen in place at the sight of his physical appearance. His eye, even though much of the swelling had gone down since Friday night, was still colored darkly in hues of blue and purple. His lips were swollen where it was cut. He looked like he'd gone to fight club with Puck. There was a dark circle underneath his good eye, like he hadn't slept much in a few days. His hair wasn't in its usual well-kept state and he was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt that had several dark red spots where what Rachel assumed had been blood had dried.

"Shit," Kurt said turning around so his back was towards Rachel, "Rachel you should go."

"K-Kurt. What happened to you?" She questioned, the tears falling from her eyes.

"It's nothing, Rachel. Please go."

"No!" Rachel shouted through her tears, "I can't pretend like I didn't just see that. I can't pretend that this isn't at least a little bit my fault."

Kurt turned around surprised and shot Rachel a questioning glance.

"Your uncle did that to you didn't he? He hurt you."

The tears began to well up and Kurt's eyes, but he said nothing; he couldn't tell her that she was right. He couldn't say the words.

"I saw the bruises Kurt. Before, before you pushed everyone away. I saw them and I knew that you were having a hard time getting along with your uncle and I should have said something. I thought eventually you would say something to me, and I would tell my dads and then they would tell someone who could help you. But you didn't say anything to me and then you just," Rachel paused for a moment to take a shaky breath, "disappeared. And I brought it up to my dads once and they didn't take me seriously. They thought that I was coming up with bizarre stories because you weren't talking to me. But they weren't stories, were they Kurt? They were real?"

Kurt remained silent, afraid to speak. Afraid that if he said a word, he could break down letting everything he'd been feeling over the last year and half escape through tortured gasps and violent sobs. This was what he had been waiting for, even though he had been convinced that he would never get it. He wanted for someone else to know his secret; for someone else to take some of the burden that had been smothering him off of his chest so that he could breathe freely again. And now, despite his best efforts, Rachel knew the truth. She knew why he'd pushed himself away from everyone who loved him; why he turned himself into a shell of who he used to be.

Kurt nodded slightly, almost unrecognizable at Rachel's question. But she saw it and with tears in her eyes she crossed the space between them and launched herself at Kurt, wrapping her arms around his neck. There was a slight burn around his middle that still lingered from Friday, but it didn't bother him at all as he moved to wrap his arms around Rachel and hold her against him.

"Is this why you broke up with Blaine?" Rachel said when they pulled apart a few moments later.

"Yes," Kurt said as his own tears began sliding down his face, "Well, no. I mean, mostly. But it still isn't fair. I meant what I said when I told him that I was leaving after graduation and leaving every single thing about Lima behind. He's not graduating this year and when I leave here, I don't want anything keeping me tied to this place."

"Even Blaine?"

"Especially, Blaine. I'm never coming back here after graduation Rachel. He'd have to come to New York if we were to ever see each other. It's not fair to ask that of him. We haven't even been together that long, Rachel. He might not want to deal with all of this."

"Shouldn't you at least ask him?"

"Rachel," Kurt warned, "Plus, I'm basically on house arrest for the rest of the school year. My uncle wasn't thrilled to find that I'd gone out on Friday night or that I ever had Blaine in the house. What kind of boyfriend would I be if he could only see me in school?"

"You should tell him."

"Are you crazy? I haven't told anyone, and you only found out because you broke into the house. Why would I tell him?

"Because what you two have is special. Incredibly complicated, but very, very special. Don't you think that's worth fighting for?"

"Do you think Blaine would just be able to accept the fact that sometimes my uncle beats me up? Do you think he's just going to be able to deal with that? Do you think it's even fair of me to ask him to do it? I've made up my mind about this Rachel. Please don't try to change it."

"You should tell someone about this Kurt," Rachel insisted, "There are people out there that can help you. My dads, Miss Pillsbury."

"No. Rachel please? Promise me you would say anything to anyone. No one else can know."

"No, Kurt—"

"Please Rachel," Kurt pleaded, "It'll only make things worse if you say something to anyone. Please just trust me that I have this under control. This was just a very bad day. I can usually avoid him and most of this. But I can't do this if I have to worry about something else setting him off. So please, Rachel. Please promise me you won't say anything to anyone."

"Okay, okay. I promise." Rachel whispered, "Is there anything I can get you?"

"I hate to ask you to do this," Kurt said hesitantly, "But I'm out of concealer. And if I plan on going back to school anytime soon I need to be able to cover this up."

"I'll bring it by after school tomorrow."

"Thank you Rachel," Kurt said a fresh batch of tears pooling in his eyes, "Now you should get out of here. I don't want you to be here when my uncle gets home."

"Text me, okay? Text me all the time. I'll go see all your teachers tomorrow and get your homework."

"Thank you, Rachel," Kurt said, "I really don't deserve you."

"You deserve more than you even realize, Kurt," Rachel said leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, "I love you."

She turned around reluctantly, wanting nothing more than to drag Kurt away with her; to protect him from the evil person who was probably on his way home.

"And Rachel?" Kurt said just as Rachel was opening the front door.

"Yeah?"

"When you talk to Blaine," Kurt said, "Tell him I'm sorry."

Rachel nodded and turned the knob on the front door, leaving the house and Kurt alone with a madman on his way. There was a knot in her stomach as she climbed back into her car. She'd suspected before and did nothing; now, because of the pleading eyes of her best friend, she knew and she was still doing nothing; at least not yet. As she pulled her car into the parking lot of Ulta, knowing exactly which concealer Kurt needed, Rachel hoped that even this small effort would be enough. And that somehow, she and Blaine would be able to save Kurt before it was too late.


	13. Chapter 12

AN: You guys are spectacular! Thank you for putting up with me and my not-as-often-as-I'd-like updates! So thank you for sticking with me!

Happy New Year everyone! I've got a long weekend coming up so hopefully I'll be able to get a jump start on Chapter 13 and have it up shortly after the start of the new year!

R&R?

* * *

Blaine spent all of Tuesday night with his stomach in knots, waiting by his phone for a call from Rachel, or Kurt. Each time his phone went off he hurried to answer it, anticipation and hope bubbling inside him like a kid on Christmas. Except, there weren't any presents or surprises. Every message he received was from Tina who was asking about their trig homework. It wasn't until he went to look for a specific set of notes that he remembered that his trig notebook was still at Kurt's. He wondered if he could pass his test on Friday without it. Blaine went to sleep, confused, rejected, and without hearing from Rachel.

He didn't know for sure, but Blaine could have sworn that Rachel was avoiding him the next morning. And it wasn't until that afternoon on his way to lunch that Blaine ran, almost literally, into Rachel was she came rushing out of the auditorium where he'd agreed to meet with her and prepare for Nationals.

"Blaine," Rachel said her words of a higher pitch and coming out faster than normal, "What are you doing here?"

"We agreed to meet today to start planning out set list for Nationals today," Blaine said.

"Oh, that's right. Well, uh, can we do it another day?" Rachel said flustered, "Today isn't good for me anymore."

Blaine raised one eyebrow, watching Rachel skeptically, "Is something wrong?"

"What? No. Of course not," Rachel said eyes widening innocently, "Why don't you meet Tina in the cafeteria? She was complaining earlier that she needed to borrow your trig notes."

"Rachel," Blaine said, "What are you hiding?"

"What? Nothing," Rachel said her eyes darting everywhere but in Blaine's direction.

"Rachel, I can see right through you," Blaine said crossing his arms across his chest, becoming bored with Rachel who was trying to keep up the charade for as long as possible.

"Fine," Rachel huffed, "I'm having lunch in the auditorium with Kurt."

Blaine winced at the sound of Kurt's name and couldn't help the combination of jealousy and anger that was swirling around his insides. Kurt had broken up with Blaine, but he seemed to have no qualms with keeping his friendship with Rachel intact. It made sense, a little; Rachel had been Kurt's friend, his best friend, long before Blaine came around. But what could have been going on with Kurt that he couldn't have his best friend and Blaine?

"Oh," Blaine said simply, as if he could pretend that with a single syllable that he understood everything; that somehow something would click in his mind and he could see clearly where Kurt was coming from.

"I'm sorry," Rachel said sincerely, "I forgot that we had agreed to meet or I would have text you and told you we needed to reschedule."

"But he-he's okay?" Blaine questioned, hating how desperate he sounded. He'd spent much of the night before convincing himself that if Kurt didn't care about him, if he didn't love Blaine the same way that Blaine loved him, then he wasn't worth his time. He would take his time, work to heal his heart, but there was only so much wallowing he would do over someone who clearly didn't care about him.

"He's okay," Rachel responded a slight quiver in her voice, "He has mono and that's why he couldn't talk to you through the door. He's only here for lunch and to grab some of his books before he goes home to rest.

"He hasn't—"Blaine said, his voice betraying him as he tried to remain calm; but the waver was evident as his heart tightened in his chest, "He hasn't said anything about me has he?"

"He says he's sorry," Rachel told him. Her words were simple, as if what she was telling him wasn't the most important thing to him.

Kurt's rejection washed over him once more, as he nodded slowly, "I'm going to go then."

Blaine turned around, his face long, his chest heavy, and his eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears as he made his way to the cafeteria in hopes of distracting himself by helping Tina with her homework.

Blaine turned around, his face long, his chest heavy, and his eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears as he made his way to the cafeteria in hopes of distracting himself by helping Tina with her homework.

"Blaine," Rachel called, "Wait!"

Blaine turned around trying to keep the tears from falling at least until he was alone.

"Just-"Rachel said, "Just, give him some time. He'll come around and realize he made a mistake. He's just got a lot going on right now."

"Like mono?"

"Listen, Blaine," Rachel said placing her hand on Blaine's forearm, "When Kurt came to me at Breadstix and told me that he couldn't tell me why he'd pushed everyone away, but that he wanted to and that he was sorry, it only took me a moment to know that he meant it. And that was enough. And as much as I hate what he did and how much it hurt me, I know that Kurt had his reasons, and that it wasn't about me, it was about him. And what kind of friend would I be if I told him he had to worry about only my feelings, and not his own?"

"I just want to understand," Blaine exclaimed.

"And I think one day, he'll make sure you do. But you have to wait and let him come to you."

"And how long am I supposed to wait? Another year and a half? I don't know if I can do that," Blaine said. He knew he loved Kurt, but even so, how long could he wait around for Kurt to open up to him again? Regardless of their relationship, Kurt was leaving for New York in May.

"He's worth it Blaine," Rachel said looking him straight his eyes.

Blaine looked only beyond Rachel, towards the closed auditorium doors, the ones that hid Kurt from view and said nothing. He took a shaky breath and shrugged his shoulder before turning towards the cafeteria.

* * *

Kurt knew that once he returned to school, and that he had to see Blaine, that things would be…tense. And because of that, Kurt took decided that it would be in everyone's best interest if he altered his schedule just enough so that he could avoid being at his locker at the same time Blaine was at his. Kurt knew Blaine's schedule as well as he knew his own since they'd spent the last few months taking advantage of the time that they had at their lockers. If it hadn't been so sad, he would have been proud of the fact that it only took him an entire day to reroute himself in such a way that he didn't have to bump into Blaine once. It had taken him two weeks before he could stop turning back around corners in order to avoid Rachel. And it worked pretty well despite the fact that Kurt had to carry around more books at a single time than he needed too, but he managed to avoid seeing Blaine outside of English (where he mostly kept his face tilted towards his book at all times) for two whole weeks.

In his defense, there was no way Kurt could have known he'd needed to avoid Blaine an entire hour before school started. He'd begun leaving for school earlier in the morning, getting to school with enough time to pack his bag with enough books to avoid Blaine, and his locker, until lunch and spend some time in the auditorium with Rachel before classes started.

He felt Blaine before he could see him approach his locker out of the corner of his eye. Kurt had been shuffling through his bag looking for the homework he knew he'd put in there that morning and then there was a sudden warmth beside him. It wasn't that Blaine was radiating that much body heat (although Kurt was all too familiar with what it felt like to be wrapped up in Blaine Anderson), but Kurt's hyperawareness that Blaine was standing next to him, that it was the first time that he'd been that close to Blaine since he'd broken up with his through his front door, made all the nerve endings in Kurt's body sing and the butterflies beat against his insides. It also made his heart constrict in his chest. Because despite the fact that every inch of Kurt seemed to want nothing more than Blaine, the fact that Blaine wasn't his to have any more sent a wave of sorrow through his entire body that wiped out everything else he was feeling.

For a moment, Kurt was unable to move, but when Blaine opened his locker door without acknowledging that Kurt was there, Kurt forced himself to at least look busy and continued to search for his missing assignment. Kurt knew that he should say something to Blaine. He should, at the very least, apologize to Blaine's face instead of making Rachel do it for him. But his tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he knew anything he'd try to say would come out as a jumbled mess. He owed Blaine so much more than that. Besides, what could he possibly say that would make a difference?

He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss Blaine. Thankfully no one was asking. Of course, he missed Blaine. You don't spend almost every day with someone for months and not miss them when they're sudden (though you are aware that it is completely your fault) removed from your life.

Like, the other day while searching for inspiration on the internet, Kurt found a website with a bunch of bowties that would look absolutely adorable on Blaine. He was half way through the text message (full of flirty emoticons) before he even realized what he was doing. With a sad sigh he deleted the text message and placed his phone down on the desk, staring at it blankly. He suddenly wasn't interested in sketching.

Or during English class when their teaching was droning on and on about Russian literature, he took a moment to glance away from his text book and couldn't keep his eyes from wandering to Blaine; admiring how stunning he looked as he followed their teacher as he paced the front of the room. He had to turn away quickly as Blaine's eyes moved in his direction, like he had felt Kurt's eyes on him. Kurt reminded himself that he and Blaine couldn't be together and that meant that Kurt couldn't admire his copper brown eyes or his pink lips while remembering what it felt like to have those lips on his own and those eyes so close, staring back at him as if they could see right through all the bullshit and right into his soul. It was cliché, yes, but it had been everything Kurt had ever dreamed of. And it now it was gone.

He wondered what was actually going on inside Blaine's head. Was he as tense as Kurt was? (Yes.) Did he hurt like Kurt did? (Yes.) Did Blaine hate Kurt? (Absolutely not. He was more…hurt.) A million questions and what if scenarios played themselves out in Kurt's mind. Each of them tightening the first around his heart until he was certain that, any tighter, and his heart would shatter; yet somehow the tightening continued.

Kurt's phone buzzed and he knew right away that it was Rachel and that he was late to meet her. He had no business at his locker. He should've closed his door and went to go meet Rachel the second he noticed Blaine was there. But he couldn't bring himself to walk away. Standing there next to Blaine like that, Kurt's heart couldn't help but hope. He hoped somehow that in the awkward moment where he stood silently next o Blaine, pretending to be busy, that something would happen. Whether the earth split in two and they were devoured or somehow the circumstances would change, Kurt didn't care; what he wanted was for everything to be back as it was. He wanted the dull throbbing in his chest to go away. And as Blaine slammed his locker door shut and walked away, pulling Kurt from his day dreams and back into the real world, Kurt was certain that he was never going to get his happy ending.

* * *

If he thought about it hard enough, Kurt could remember the day his mom died like it was happening in the present. He could remember coming home from school that day and immediately feeling that something had shifted, that something was not as it had been when he'd left for the bus that morning. He walked into the house, feeling relief from the chill of late February, and shook the slush that accumulated on the bottom of his boots from the recent late winter snow before toeing them off and placing them neatly next to his father's. He'd been surprised to see his father's truck in the driveway so early, but he followed the sound of whispered voices that were coming from the kitchen. It was there that he found his father and his grandmother, huddled close together, talking in hushed voices. His father sat at the table, his hat removed to expose his balding head that sat in his hands, his grandmother's hand on his back.

"What's going on?" Kurt said, his voice, though small, somehow sounded thunderous as it echoed through the room.

His father's head shot up and his grandmother turned around and painted on a soft smile.

"Oh, Kurt," she cooed getting up and walked over to him before wrapping him up in her arms to give him one of those hugs that only grandmas can give. But this one felt different, tighter, and more urgent than the others as she held him close and sniffled into his ear.

Kurt hooked his chin over his grandma's shoulder and hugged her back, because it felt nice, but his eyes were glued to his father who had remained seated at the table and was now wiping furiously at his face. Was his father crying? In his whole entire life (all eight years) he'd never once seen his dad cry. It's not that he thought his dad was incapable of shedding a tear, but that he always thought of his dad as the strongest man alive; nothing could ever make him cry.

"Dad?" Kurt questioned when he grandma released him from her hug, but she kept a hand firmly on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

His dad got up from the table and walked over to him, "Come sit with me for a minute bud," he said as he guided Kurt over to sit beside him on the sofa in the living room.

Kurt's eight year old mind didn't process most of what his father was telling him, but what he understood when his father stopped speaking, turning his head away so Kurt wouldn't see him cry was that his mother was no longer alive. That a car accident and a man who wouldn't stop fast enough on the ice had taken his mother from the world that morning on her way home from the grocery store.

He didn't cry until a little while later. His dad had called the Berrys and they brought Rachel over, probably as a distraction, but the children were immediately escorted down to Kurt's room while the grown-ups did whatever it was that they had to do upstairs. But Kurt didn't want to do anything of the things that he normally did with Rachel. He didn't want sing duets or paint her nails or watch The Sound of Music. What he wanted was to sit next to his mom at the kitchen table and listen to his dad tell her about his day at the shop. What he wanted was to be doing his homework at the kitchen table while his mom hummed along to the songs that played softly on the radio while his dad watched the basketball game in the other room, coming in during commercials and half time to help Kurt with his science homework. Honestly, he didn't care what he was doing; he could be climbing Mount Everest for all he cared, but what he wanted was his mom.

He laid on top of his bed and curled himself into a ball as Rachel talked incessantly about nothing particular while skimming through one of her many song books looking for her next solo. Kurt didn't pay much attention to what she was saying, though thinking back on the moment, he realized he should have thanked her. He should have thanked her for being there, for trying to distract him, for then climbing onto his bed and lying next to him and holding his hand while he cried into his pillow.

"Hey," a voice said pulling him from his memories. Kurt didn't have to look to know that it was Rachel, "You alright?"

Kurt just shrugged.

"Kurt, I know what day it is. My dads and I, we still go to her grave every year and lay down some flowers."

"I know," Kurt said turning to look at her, his eyes hold back a batch of tears he refused to let fall at school, "I watched you guys from behind a tree last year. I waited until you were gone until I went to see her."

"I wish you would have come to us."

"I couldn't just waltz over to the three of you and act like everything was okay. Plus, I'm pretty sure I was sporting a shiner."

"Oh, Kurt," Rachel cried reaching down at taking hold of his hand.

"But I felt," Kurt started taking a moment to search for the right word to explain to Rachel, "…happy knowing that someone out there still cared about her. That I wasn't the only one who would remember her. It almost made me think that if she lived on in the hearts of someone else, that she would live forever. Even longer than I would."

"Kurt, please don't talk like that."

"I know, I'm sorry," Kurt said taking a deep breath, "I just can't help but be extra emotional today."

"And you are allowed to be, Kurt," Rachel said, "Hey? Why don't we ditch? We can go to your mom's grave together and we can go to my house and bake cookies or something until you have to go home."

"You're perfect, do you know that," Kurt said reaching down and taking hold of Rachel's other hand, "And as surprised as I am that Rachel Berry is willing to ditch class, I can't miss anymore school. I'm still catching up from my week out with 'mono'."

"Speaking of which," Rachel said, "Have you given any thought to what I said?"

"Rachel," Kurt warned, "You've gone and ruined a perfectly good moment."

"I don't care," Rachel said, "Kurt, we need to get you out of that house."

"Everything will be fine Rachel. We graduate in just over two months."

"Do you have any idea how much I worry when I know you're home alone with that monster? Do you know how many times my dads have come in and asked me why my nightly solos have been so sad? Do you have any idea how frightened I am that I'm going to come to school on a Monday and you won't be here?"

"Two months, Rachel. Two months. I've been doing this for almost two years. I can make it a couple more months."

"But you shouldn't have to," Rachel said louder than she should have and Kurt looked around anxiously to see if anyone was giving them any extra attention, "There are people out there that can help you if you just let them."

"Rachel, stop," Kurt snapped, "And please listen to me because I don't want to have to say this again. I'm going to handle this my way and if you don't like that, if you can't respect that, than I'm sorry I can't have you in my life."

"I'm just scared for you Kurt," Rachel said her voice cracking.

"I know," Kurt responded, "Thank you. But this is how it has to be, okay?"

Rachel nodded.

"Good," Kurt said closing his locker, "Now I have to go because Blaine will be here soon and I don't have it in me to deal with that today."

Kurt began to head towards his first class when Rachel's voice stopped him again, "He misses you, you know?" she said.

Kurt turned to look at her but kept his face emotionless.

"He hasn't actually said it, but I know it's true. It's like every time I see him he's hoping that I'm going to tell him that you miss him. And I know you haven't said it either, but I know that you miss him too," Rachel said, "And I'm only telling this because you deserve some happiness Kurt; and Blaine makes you happy."

She was right. But on the anniversary of his mother's death, he couldn't argue wither. He didn't' trust his voice not to crack or for everything that he'd been trying so hard to keep solid to crumble in his hands like sand. So instead he lifted one shoulder and shrugged while giving Rachel half of a sad smile. Two months, he reminded himself as he took off down the hallway. Two months and he'd be away from Lima and in New York where he could start fresh. He'd leave everything that he hated about this time. Everything else he'd take with him in memories.


	14. Chapter 13

**AN:** I know. It's only been like a week since the last update! If you've been following this since the beginning, I'm as shocked as you are! But things are kind of flowing better in my head.

This chapter is a little shorter than normal, but after much internal debate, I ended up splitting what was supposed to be chapter 13, into two chapters.

The song used in the beginning is Porcelain by Marianas Trench, which I don't think I've mentioned before, is where the title and the inspiration for this story came from on a long commute home from work.

Okay, enough of me rambling! ENJOY! R&R? :)

* * *

_The slow and simple melody  
__Of tears you cannot keep from me  
__It's alright if you don't know what you need  
__I'm right here when  
__You need someone to see  
__It's not speak  
__Or forever hold your peace  
__It's alright to take time  
__And find where you've been  
__You are perfect porcelain_

Kurt was grateful when March rolled around. The temperatures began to slowly rise, melting and washing away the memory of winter. Kurt hated winter. Besides an excuse to dress with so many layers, winter was nothing but lack of sunlight and a bunch of holidays for him to spend by himself as a reminder that both of his parents were gone and he was forced inside by a monster he called uncle. The end of winter meant, of course, the arrival of spring. With spring came sunshine and rebirth; A new beginning for the world around him, and this year, for himself.

On a Thursday morning before school, Kurt happily placed his heavy winter coat back into his closet, pulling out a much lighter one, a red one, and threw it around him in the rush to get out of the house and enjoy as much warmth as the morning allowed him before he disappeared into the school for the next eight hours.

It wasn't until he was walking through the parking lot of McKinley, when Kurt placed his keys in his pocket, that he noticed that his pockets weren't empty. Inside the silk lined pocket was a piece of paper. As he walked down the hallways towards his locker to get ready for another exhausting day of avoiding Blaine, Kurt pulled out the folded up notebook paper, unfolding its creases and instantly recognized the first line on the page was written in Blaine's hand writing. Clean black ink pen strokes against the page in a note that Blaine had passed to him in English. When they were just partners for a project. When they hadn't yet kissed.

_I'm excited to go over to your house today. _

**Why? You're there almost every day. And all we ever do is homework.**

_Top Model is on Kurt. Top Model._

Kurt remembered laughing then and he laughed again in the mostly empty halls.

_**You're ridiculous.**_

_I'm obsessed. And it's all your fault._

_**Some people get blamed for nuclear disasters. I get blamed for Blaine Anderson's addictions to reality television. **_

_Someone has to take on that burden. _

Kurt couldn't contain the smile that played on his lips at the same time his chest tightened just enough to make him want to crawl back into bed and hide underneath the covers until the feeling faded. The feeling that ate at him on a daily basis. The feeling that hadn't gone away since he'd broken up with Blaine weeks ago. He'd always imagined what it would be like to fall in love. And in a way, despite the less than stellar circumstances, and the lies that he wished he could tell, it was everything he thought it would be. The flirtatious smiles, the lustful eyes. Dissolving at the touch of another while a tidal wave of heat crashed low in your belly. Quick kisses, long kisses, and not wanting to spend a single moment without each other. But now, he wasn't sure how to make himself fall out of love. And he wasn't sure that he really wanted to. But he needed to. Didn't he? He'd made up his mind a long time ago that a clean break was the best way to escape the small town. If he could leave Lima with no friends and no family and no _boyfriend_, than he could create a different life, one without all the bad that had accumulated over the years, one that couldn't come back and haunt him. But things had changed over the last six months. He couldn't run away as easily from the things he'd once wanted nothing more to do with. Rachel was going to New York. He wasn't about to go into a strange city without knowing a single soul, he would have his best friend. But then there was Blaine. Was it possible to keep a relationship with Blaine despite the distance? Despite the fact that he never intended on stepping one foot in Lima once he was gone? Was it fair? No. But could Kurt be faulted if he wanted to want it? Absolutely not. Blaine had become something more to him in just six short months. He'd become his second best friend. He was the first person that Kurt let in after he'd vowed to be alone as long as he was in Lima. Kurt wasn't sure anymore that he could just pack everything up and throw all of that away.

* * *

The Monday after Kurt found the note from Blaine, the questions and doubts were still circling violently in his mind. That morning Kurt read over the note for the hundredth time from the front row of the auditorium while Rachel stood center stage rehearsing what she hoped would be her solo performance for nationals. He read it over and over as if somewhere in Blaine's words was the answer to everything. But the solution he longed for wasn't hidden in innocent note passed between two friends. But he felt like it was locked inside of him. He just had to figure out how to get it out.

Kurt, lost in his own thoughts, didn't hear when Rachel stopped signing or when she hit pause on her iPod leaving only the buzzing of the lights and the sound of Rachel's shoes as she stomped towards the front of the stage, calling Kurt's name and startling him back to reality. He hated reality.

"Just talk to him," Rachel said, looking down at him from the stage, her hands on her hips, "You're obviously still beating yourself up over how you ended everything."

Kurt huffed as he sank lower in his seat, "And what am I supposed to say?"

"Try I'm sorry. It usually works perfectly when trying to make amends with someone," Rachel said coming to sit on the tip of the stage in front of Kurt.

"Isn't it easier if he hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you."

"He should," Kurt said hiding his face behind the note that he had showed Rachel the day he'd found it, "Plus, even if he accepts my apology, it's not going to change anything."

"It doesn't have to change anything, but it would make both of you feel better," Rachel said

Kurt hung his head and groaned, "I hate when you're right. Do I have to do it right now?"

"No. But you should probably do it soon," Rachel said standing up again, "Because even if you can't be with Blaine the way you want to be, which I still don't understand but I'm being supportive, won't it be better to leave for New York without all those negative feelings. Haven't you had enough of those to last a lifetime?"

Kurt nodded and a half smile played on his lips. Because despite how much he hated when Rachel was right, he really did have the best best friend anyone could ask for. Kurt checked his watch, if he left now, he could meet Blaine at their lockers before he went off to class. But he didn't. He stayed put while Rachel went back to rehearsing her solo. If he wanted to make things right with Blaine, at least maybe be his friend again, he'd need to plan something more than a simple I'm sorry. He'd need to find a way to explain everything to Blaine without actually telling him everything. Was that even possible?

* * *

It took a couple of days for Kurt to figure out what he was going to say to Blaine. He had to come up with the perfect words, the words that would hopefully make Blaine forgive him, even just a little bit, for the way Kurt had treated him. But he didn't find the courage to actually say everything he'd come up with to Blaine until the end of the week.

He'd let Rachel know that he would be late meeting her in the auditorium that morning (he didn't actually tell her what would be making him late in case he chickened out) and waited at his locker for Blaine to show up. But Blaine must've been running late because he didn't appear next to Kurt until it was almost time to go to class. Kurt waited until Blaine had his locker open, keeping himself occupied by pretending he was searching for something inside. But he couldn't keep standing there or the anxiety of the whole situation was going to swallow him whole. With a deep breath, Kurt shut his locker door and turned to face Blaine.

"Hey," Kurt said, his voice small and trembling so much that when Blaine didn't immediately react to his words Kurt was worried that Blaine hadn't heard him.

"What do you want Kurt?" Blaine said closing the door to his locker and after a moment of hesitation, turned his head to look at Kurt who was taken aback by the icy tone of Blaine's voice and the daggers that were shooting from his eyes. He'd been expecting it, but nothing could have prepared him for actually seeing it.

"Hi, uh," Kurt said bouncing on his feet as he tried to get everything he'd planned through his lips. But he was failing miserably, "I w-wanted to t-talk to you. To ex-explain what-"

"No, Kurt," Blaine said cutting him off with a sharp tone in his voice, "You can't keep doing this. I get that you're going through something that you obviously can't talk about and I'm not trying to push you into letting me in, but you can't push me away time and time again and expect me to keep coming back."

"This wasn't how any of this was supposed to happen," Kurt said, "And I just need you to know that I'm sorry."

There was more that he wanted to say. He wanted to tell him that he was in love with him. That breaking up with him was one of the most painful things he'd ever done in his entire life. And he knew pain. That the ache was with him every moment of every day. That Blaine could make it better, the_ it_ he didn't even know about, by just holding his hand or, even better, wrapping his arms around him, making him feel safe. But Blaine was angry and he couldn't actually say all those things. So he settled for sorry.

"I-I can't keep sticking around until the other shoe drops and you run away again before coming back, apologizing _again_. It would be really stupid of me if I let you be that selfish."

"I'm not—"

"Maybe, you are, maybe you aren't. But either way, I don't want to hear it, Kurt. Not today. I don't know if you're apologizing because it'll make you feel better about breaking up with me through your front door or because you actually mean it."

"I do, Blaine. I really do mean it. "

"Well then maybe I'm just not ready to care," Blaine said turning for a moment, looking at Kurt. His eyes locked with Kurt's and Kurt struggled not to break down and cry. The hurt look in Blaine's eyes, the look that he'd put there, tore right into him, deeper and more painful than anything his uncle could ever do to him. And now that he'd tried, and failed, at apologizing he wondered if Blaine would ever be able to look at him with the same honey hued eyes that had once been so bright, so passionate, so loving when they looked into Kurt's.

As Blaine stomped away without another word, Kurt was certain that they would not.

* * *

For the next week, Kurt took extra precaution to make sure he didn't run into Blaine at all. He'd even ducked into the guy's washroom once, hiding in the stall for five minutes until coast was clear and he wouldn't have to deal with the ever increasing awkwardness at their lockers. Blaine must have been doing the same thing because on Wednesday when Kurt was running late and skipped his morning meeting with Rachel and arrived at school per his old schedule, a schedule that should have meant that he would come face to face with Blaine at their lockers, found Blaine's locker blocked by a couple of freshman making out with Blaine nowhere in sight.

By Friday he was actually glad the week was over. Now that Uncle Tim had been working during the day for a while, Kurt had been able to put together a perfect schedule for himself at home which had only allowed him to cross paths with his uncle twice, but the older man just walked past with him with not so much as a glance. His plan seemed to be working. The light at the end of the tunnel was a speck, but it was finally in sight.

Kurt walked into the auditorium, expecting to see Rachel waiting for him, but he found nothing but the piano sitting in the middle of the stage. He threw his bag up on top and sat down on the bench, his fingers ghosting over the ivory keys. It had been a very long time since he'd last played the piano. He started taking lessons when he was six and would practice with his mom every night. When she died, he kept going to the lessons and sitting at the piano in the family room every night to play. It made him feel closer to her. But when his dad died and he and Uncle Tim moved into a different house, just up the road, the house was much smaller and they had to sell the piano. From then on outside of some Glee rehearsals, Kurt never really got a chance to sit down and tickle the ivory.

"I'm sorry," a voice said breaking Kurt from his thoughts, "I'm supposed to be meeting Rachel here."

Kurt looked up and found Blaine standing there nervously and, thankfully, not looking as angry as he had the week before.

"I'm meeting Rachel here," Kurt said standing up from the piano bench.

"Oh," Blaine said, "Maybe she just forgot that she was meeting you when she asked me. I'll just text her and we can reschedule."

"She didn't forget," Kurt said over Blaine who had begun rambling.

Blaine looked at Kurt, bewildered. God he was so adorable.

"She set us up," Kurt explained, "This is her way of getting us to talk to each other."

"Oh."

Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket and immediately dialed Rachel's number, "Let me just call her," Kurt said as the phone rang in his ear.

No answer.

A moment later, Blaine's phone buzzed in his hand Kurt watched as Blaine busied himself with checking it a moment before his own phone went off. He had a text.

'Tell him' was all that it said.

"That was Rachel," Blaine said as Kurt looked back up at him, "She says 'Let him tell you'."

Kurt didn't know whether to be grateful or to be furious. Grateful that she'd done the hard part for him; she initiated the conversation. Blaine knew he had something to say so now all he had to do was say it right. But no, he decided, he should be furious with her. Rachel lured him and Blaine to the auditorium for the sole purpose of Kurt telling Blaine his deepest and darkest secret. Telling Blaine everything was a risk, a risk Kurt and only Kurt would have to take. And that risk could cost him everything.

"You don't have to tell me," Blaine said, "I can tell your freaking out."

"I want to," Kurt said as his heart rate quickened, "I'm just not sure I know how."

"You don't have to," Blaine repeated.

"It's just," Kurt started, continuing only after he'd taken a moment to collect his thoughts, "It's not a little secret. It's kind of huge actually. And if I tell you, you're going to see me differently, you might even pity me. And I don't want that. But I hope that if I tell you, you will see that I'm not trying to run from people, not intentionally at least. I'm not being selfish."

"I'm sorry for the way I acted the other day. I didn't mean to be so cruel."

"You have every right to be angry with me, Blaine."

"I'm not angry," Blaine said continuing after a moment of thick silence between them, "I'm just hurt."

"I know. And I hate that I hurt you," Kurt chocked out, his voice breaking, "But another reason I'm afraid to tell you, of telling anyone, is that telling you could hurt me. If anyone else found out—"

"I won't tell a soul, Kurt. If you tell me I won't tell a soul. I lo-," Blaine started without thinking but realizing this wasn't the time or place for slip ups like that, "I'd never betray your trust like that."

"I won't hold you to those promises until you've heard what I have to say," Kurt said, "We're going to miss class if I tell you everything now."

"I don't care," Blaine said.

"Okay," Kurt said taking a deep breath, he wasn't sure where to even start, "I guess I'll start from the beginning."


	15. Chapter 14

Trigger warning: talk of suicide below.

* * *

_Welcome to my world of truth…_

He hadn't had a run in with Uncle Tim in weeks. There were no fresh cuts or bruises on his body to use as evidence against his uncle, to prove to Blaine that the story he was about to tell wasn't a work of fiction. But all the answers to Blaine's once avoided questions were held in a scar. A scar that Blaine had already seen back when it was red and angry against his skin.

"You almost found out twice," Kurt said his voice more solid than he'd imagined it would be.

"When?" Blaine asked eying Kurt curiously.

Kurt took breath before he spoke, "The first time was right after I was having…oh, I think this time it was migraines."

"You were bleeding. You had a cut," Blaine said gesturing against his own side to reflect where the scar sat on Kurt's body, "It was infected."

"You remember."

"I don't think I'll ever forget," Blaine said, "And the second time?"

"Mellencamp was on my iPod. You'd just asked me to come with you to Sugar's Valentine's Day party and—"

"The bruise on your face," Blaine said, "You kicked me out when I started questioning it."

"I did."

"Kurt, I know what I saw. But I don't get what you're telling me."

With Blaine's words, it was finally time; he was going to tell someone everything. Kurt's swallowed the lump in his throat that was only replaced immediately by another, larger, lump. He was trembling and his head was spinning viciously and he took a deep breath through his nose to keep from fainting or vomiting, or both. Maybe he couldn't do this. Maybe he couldn't just come out and say it. With Rachel, he hadn't had to say anything; she'd suspected and was presented with evidence all over Kurt's face. He hadn't had to utter a word. But now Blaine was eying him suspiciously, but cautiously, waiting for him to say something. But all Kurt could do was cast his eyes down to the wooden floor of the stage while he tried to figure out which voice in his head to listen to. Either the one that was screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that telling Blaine could only lead to bad things; or the one that reminded him that telling Blaine everything would lift some of the pressure that had been sitting on his chest for so long.

Kurt felt something warm engulf his left hand. It was familiar in the way it laced itself through Kurt's fingers, squeezing gently. Suddenly the fear wasn't as overwhelming, though it was definitely still there. Kurt glanced over and found Blaine's hand with his, tethering him to the present, to them, instead of the millions of thoughts running through his head.

"Hey," Blaine said his voice a whisper right into his ear, "Hey, you're shaking."

Kurt leaned in until his forehead met the top of Blaine's head, indescribably thankful that Blaine didn't pull away from him. Kurt could feel the pressure building behind his eyes and he wanted to breakdown in Blaine's arms, no explanation required. But without an explanation, would Blaine's arms still be there to hold him? Would Blaine still let him cry on his shoulder if he had no idea why Kurt was crying?

"I've missed you," Kurt whispered, his voice still trembling. But if he was going to open himself up like he was about to, there was no use of hiding anything else from Blaine.

"I've missed to you too," Blaine said and the effects of his voice ghosted over Kurt's entire body, relieving him slightly of the ache in his heart.

Kurt pulled away to look Blaine in the eye. Blaine was looking back at him intensely and Kurt thought he saw that thing that still remained unsaid between them. That four letter word that had destroyed Kurt's world in the best possible way, at the worst possible time. Taking another deep breath and squeezing Blaine's hand, Kurt used the love he thought he saw in Blaine's eyes to gather the strength he'd been missing to utter the words he'd wanted for so long to say out loud.

"S-somet-times," Kurt said pausing because his voice was completely unstable. But he was going to do this. He_ had_ to do this, "S-sometimes-s my uncle…he's an alcoholic…h-h-e uh," Kurt pause again for another deep breath before trying to say it a different way, "The cut on my side was from a broken coffee mug that I landed on when my uncle pushed me and the b-bruise on my face. Was from when he punched me because—well I'm not sure I remember why he did it that time."

Blaine winced and took as step back, his eyes wide but still focused on Kurt. His jaw was slack as he gaped in stunned silence. They were both quiet for a long time, the only sound the buzzing the lights above them and the ragged sound of each other's breath. Blaine remained focused on Kurt who could see the wheels turning in Blaine's head. He knew that this was the moment he'd been dreading. He could practically feel Blaine running out of there and telling someone.

"Say something," Kurt pleaded in a soft voice.

"He _punched_ you? He-more the once?" Blaine stammered though a few of the millions of questions running through his mind as he stood there stupefied.

Kurt only nodded slightly like he had when Rachel had found out. It was a relief to not have to repeat himself. He wasn't sure he could.

"I-I-I…feel like an idiot," Blaine said keeping Kurt's hand in his left while he ran his right over his face.

"Please, don't," Kurt said, "You didn't know."

"No, Kurt. I'm absolutely the worst person in the world. I should have known something was wrong both of those times, hell, I felt—I did know something was wrong. I should've done something. Told someone, should've made you tell me."

"I just would have pushed you away," Kurt said, mustering up a quarter of a smile, "so I'm really glad you didn't."

"And when you had mono?" Blaine questioned, "That was that was, that was—that?"

"That was probably the worst it's ever been. "

"When did you tell Rachel?"

"I didn't exactly tell her. She came over after everything that happened with us and walked right into my house. I wasn't exactly prepared for guests."

"And she's keeping this a secret for you? She thinks that you shouldn't tell anyone else? Not even her dads?"

"She agreed to only because I told her I'd never speak to her again if she told anyone."

"Kurt this is really serious stuff," Blaine said, his voice now taut. He was mad. Not at Kurt, but at Kurt's uncle, at himself, "It's cruel and he should go to jail."

"This isn't _A Child Called It_ Blaine. He doesn't go out of his way to burn me or cut me because he thinks that I deserve it. And I don't live in the garage. I have my space and he usually doesn't bother me if I'm in there. I've got a lot of the things that most teenagers want from the time he used to shower me with gifts when he didn't know what the hell he was doing. And now? Now he's just—he's just another bully, Blaine. Only I am legally forced to live with him until I turn eighteen."

"You're defending him," Blaine said, the hysteria in his voice rising.

"No, I'm defending myself," Kurt said with an edged tongue wishing Blaine would understand him "I've figured out how to manage this Blaine. I've been doing it for a long time and I only have to do it for a little while more. I turn eighteen the week after graduation and on that day I will be on a flight to New York. I can handle this it until then."

"You shouldn't have to," Blaine shouted letting go of Kurt's hand.

"That's what you and Rachel keep saying," Kurt shouted gesturing wildly now that his hands were free. If someone heard them they would surely get in trouble, "neither of you understand that I do have to. If I turn him in, and he doesn't kill me for it, then I have to come back to Lima, face him again, relive each and every bit of the entire thing for a judge so that they can maybe send him to prison for five years. If I just stick this out for two more months, I leave. He won't be responsible for me anymore and I can take off to New York, no questions asked. I'll be free of him forever. I won't even care when his pathetic ass is rotting in the ground. When I leave Lima, my uncle becomes nothing more than a ghost. He no longer will be a monster."

"He'll still be a monster even if you escape."

"Then let him destroy himself. Let the guilt of what he's done eat away at him until he's dead. He's garbage Blaine."

"I can't believe I didn't notice this before," Blaine said, "Hell, I did notice it but I didn't think that it was…and you said everything was fine."

Blaine stepped closer to Kurt and grabbed his hand once more, happy when Kurt let him.

"Because it was. At least it was as fine as it was going to get. No one notices me Blaine; no one is paying enough attention. Someone told Miss Pillsbury about that burn on my hand at the beginning of the year and she thought it was self-inflicted. And when I told her that it was an accident, she let me walk right out of her office. She thought I was suicidal, not living with an abusive relative."

"But you've never tried," Blaine asked, his voice shaking. The anger inside him replaced with fear. Fear that Kurt…, "Right?"

"No," Kurt said grabbing Blaine's other hand, "I mean, I've thought about it. I thought that maybe it could be my alternative if I didn't get into Parsons. But I did and it hasn't crossed my mind once since then."

"You were going to-"

"But I didn't," Kurt repeated.

"But you-you thought about it."

"It was my back up plan," Kurt admitted ashamed, "But I don't need it. I got in. It doesn't matter anymore."

"But it does matter, Kurt."

"No," Kurt said, "it doesn't. Just let it go."

"I don't know if I can."

"I guess that's the most important question now isn't it? Can you keep this a secret? Can you not tell anyone else about what I've told you? Because if you can't, well, I don't know what I'll do but if you could let me know now so I can try and figure something out."

Blaine was quiet for a long time. In Blaine's silence Kurt began to come up with a million and one scenarios as to how this would go. He was certain that Blaine's silence meant that he wasn't going to keep this a secret. Would he tell the police? Miss Pillsbury? Would he confront his uncle himself? Tell Rachel's dads? Each scenario was followed by an ugly scene where he was left alone with Uncle Tim, forced to be dealt with by a firm hand or a solid object. Kurt had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he barely heard Blaine once he'd begun to speak.

"I won't tell anyone, Kurt," Blaine said, "But only if you've got this under control. I don't know if I can…if I can know the next time he hurts you and not tell someone. Because this isn't right."

"I know," Kurt said, "Thank you though."

Now that they'd run out of things to say regarding Kurt and his less than stellar relationship with his uncle, it was becoming more and more noticeable just how close Blaine was standing next to him. This was the first time Kurt stood before Blaine with everything out on the table. There were no more secrets, no more hidden demons kept in the closet so that Blaine wouldn't see them. Kurt felt exposed, completely naked and completely vulnerable standing in front of Blaine, their hands still clasped between them. But when his eyes lifted to meet Blaine, he'd never felt safer or more protected from a world that had been nothing but cruel to him until this brown-eyed, gelled haired boy with a dopey smile and touch that set his entire body on fire walked into his life. Blaine was the one good thing that came out of all the bad. Blaine was the thing that Kurt would be able to look back on and smile on years from now, though his heart would be aching. Because the circumstances hadn't changed and even now, Kurt knew that he could never be with Blaine again.

Blaine's knuckles ran softly over Kurt's cheek pulling Kurt from his mind back to the present, back to Blaine. Despite having made up his mind about where his relationship with Blaine was headed, Kurt leaned into Blaine's touch that filled him with a warmth that only Blaine could give; like he was standing in the summer sun.

When Blaine leaned in to kiss Kurt, it was gentle and chaste; Blaine's lips were soft as they pressed against Kurt's. And when Blaine pulled away, Kurt felt empty because that was it. There would be no more. He was just about to tell Blaine that when Blaine's lips crashed into his once again and he felt Blaine's hands take a firm hold of his hips, drawing him closer to Blaine. Tired of fighting, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, deepening the kiss until his kips matching the fervor and desperation of Blaine's. It had been a long time since they'd done this, since they'd been this close. But their lips moved together, their tongues danced, their teeth clacked, and their hands groped like they hadn't missed a beat. Like the memory of each other's bodies would never be erased from their minds as long as they lived. This was everything he wanted; to be wrapped up in Blaine totally. Forgetting about the rest of the world. He remembered back to when Blaine first kissed him. And after that when they kissed because it was new and exciting. And how after how the touch of Blaine's lips to his would wake up his entire body, nerve endings all sparking as they brushed against his skin.

Even as Blaine led them backwards until Kurt was pressed against the piano, this, _Blaine, _was everything he wanted. He wanted to be wrapped up completely in Blaine, forgetting about the rest of the world. Forgetting about all the bad that waited for them outside the walls of that auditorium. He remembered back to when Blaine had first kissed him. How after that when they kissed it was because it was new and exciting. And now though it wasn't new, it was just as exciting. The touch of Blaine's lips to his could wake up his entire body; nerve endings sparking as skin brushed against skin. But just as quick as Kurt's mind as made him forget the whole world, the whole world sought to remind Kurt that it existed and there was the faint sound of the bell reminding them that they'd missed first period, and with a flood of memories, reminding Kurt of why kissing Blaine was terribly, terribly wrong.

"No, no," Kurt said breaking the connection of his lips and Blaine's, moving his hands from where they had cupped Blaine's face to his shoulders afraid to break the contact between them completely, "We can't do this."

The hurt look that washed over Blaine's face broke Kurt's heart but Blaine's hands stayed at his waist, holding him there, "Why not?"

He wanted to push Blaine away, to put some space between them as he spoke, but he found himself unable to move, "B-because. I didn't tell you everything so that we would get back together. We can't get back together. I told you so that you would know everything, so we could stop walking on eggshells around each other and so that you could stop hating me and maybe I could have my friend back. I'm still leaving and my uncle is still a tyrant. I can't do the things that boyfriends should do. I can't go on dates with you. I can't go to prom with you. I can't do any of those things.

"I don't care," Blaine said, "I want to be with you."

"I can't be yours Blaine," Kurt said, "Not the way you want me to be. Not the way you deserve."

"And what if I don't care?"

"Please don't fight me on this Blaine. I want to be with you too. I just can't do that to either of us."

"You said that about us being friends, and look where we are now."

"That was different."

"No, not really. I want to kiss you now just as much as I wanted to be your friend then."

"Blaine—"Kurt started.

He never got to finish because Blaine's hand cupped his cheek and a second later, Blaine's lips were on his again. Kurt's thoughts about how they should be doing this, about how they couldn't be together so they shouldn't be kissing, were drowned out by the touch of Blaine's lips and with a whispered plea from Blaine, Kurt gave in again. Because they only had skipped classes in auditoriums and kissing before Kurt was New York bound. But for right now, that was enough. When they went back to the twisted version of reality they lived in, they would worry about the consequences of their actions. But in the middle of the auditorium, pressed against the piano with Blaine pressed against him, Kurt gave in to the little piece of happiness he had left.

* * *

**AN: **Look, it's only been a week! I can't promise that updates will continue like this, but I'm going to try.

Also, the song lyric in this chapter is from Adam Lambert's Underneath. That song and Alibis by Marianas Trench were big inspirations for this chapter. I strongly suggest them both.

Also, if I could write smut (and I can't) Kurt and Blaine would have totally done it on that piano. Just thought I'd let you know.

Until next time!


	16. Chapter 15

**AN:** 3 weeks in a row! I'm spoiling you :). Just kidding. This probably has to do with the fact that I've had most of this chapter written for months.

I do, however, have bad news. I work Saturday and Sunday next weekend so I don't know if I'm going to manage to get something to you next weekend, but I will try my best.

Without further adieu...

R&R?

* * *

Nationals being held in Dallas meant one thing. That both Blaine and Rachel would be out of Lima for an entire weekend. A three day weekend to be exact as the plane that took the New Directions to their destination took off at 8:53 AM Friday morning. Since their conversation in the auditorium, Kurt and Blaine managed to find a way to spend more time with each other. Blaine joined Kurt and Rachel during their early mornings of coffee and bagels in the auditorium. Sometimes Rachel would conspicuously be absent, leaving their breakfast waiting for them but not showing up until she was certain that Kurt and Blaine had had enough time by themselves. And they did. It was nice to be able to talk to each other, to share things with each other, to sometimes kiss each other. But despite their fantastic make out session and their occasional light kissing, Kurt was adamant that they were not together. They couldn't be. Forty-five minutes alone in an auditorium twice a week, did not constitute a date. Text messages about homework and that subtly only served the purpose of checking to make sure Kurt was okay at home did not make up a relationship. It was more than he'd imagined was possible, but for Kurt, it still wasn't enough.

Without Blaine or Rachel, or anyone from New Directions Kurt fell, a little too easily, back into the familiar pattern of keeping himself distanced from everyone in school. He spent Friday morning in an empty auditorium bent over some English homework, and he was grateful that the auditorium was empty at lunch as well. (Because, with New Directions gone, who was left to use it?) He couldn't bare sitting in the crowded lunchroom, vulnerable to Karofsky or Azimio. He'd grown accustomed over the last few weeks to have Blaine and Rachel and the rest of New Directions there to shield him. While it never stopped them from throwing snide remarks and hateful words towards him, the chances he would end up on the floor or get slammed into a bank of lockers decreased when he was with the group.

It wasn't until late Friday night, when Kurt was sitting in bed reading through the Parsons catalog that had showed up in the mail earlier in the week along with the instructions on how to register for classes, that his phone lit up indicating that he had a text message. He smiled slightly when he saw that it was Blaine.

_Blaine (9:43pm): _Can we call you?

_Kurt (9:44pm): _I wish.

_Blaine (9:44pm): _Me too. I miss your voice.

Kurt hated when Blaine said things like that. He hated it because of all the reasons most people loved when people said things like that to them. He hated that Blaine was probably bashfully smiling at his phone as he hit send. Rachel was probably teasing him if she caught him. Kurt hated how his body tingled with something he couldn't put words to when Blaine said things like 'I miss you' or 'I can't wait to see you on Monday'. It wasn't that he didn't like the way he felt like the butterflies inside him were fluttering so furiously, he thought they might knock him off his feet. And maybe he'd never told Blaine that he probably shouldn't be saying things like that to him (Ok, maybe he tried once. But he put very little effort into it and Blaine just silenced him with a kiss). But the point was, people who weren't together weren't supposed to say those things to each other.

People who weren't together also don't reply to text messages with 'I miss you too', but Kurt can't help it, it's true, and the Parsons catalog was getting a little overwhelming.

They text for a little while, Rachel cutting in with her own texts on occasion because apparently Blaine won't text her questions for her. Rachel was more concerned about what Kurt and Blaine were texting about. 'He's smiling too much for those to be innocent texts Kurt Hummel.' Kurt would've liked to tell Rachel that she's right, but he really didn't think anything he and Blaine were texting would merit the smile that Rachel was speaking of. He filled Blaine on the rather uneventful day he had at school (maybe Blaine was laughing at Kurt's comments on his French teacher's horrible outfit choice) and told him about some of the interesting things he'd seen in the Parsons catalog.

Before they said goodnight (because Mr. Shuester gave them a ridiculous curfew) Blaine, of course, made sure that Kurt was safe for the night. He couldn't do anything for Kurt while he was in Lima, but now, in Dallas, he felt even more useless. Kurt did his best to assure him that he was going to be just fine. He could hear his uncle snoring in front of the TV in the living room and as long as he stayed in his room until morning he'd be just fine. Like every night, Blaine seemed hesitant to believe Kurt's words, but eventually he sends one final goodnight and Kurt felt alone for the first time in hours.

* * *

Kurt met Blaine and Rachel in the choir room Monday morning instead of in the auditorium. It was there that they, meaning mostly Rachel, spoke with such animation about their nationals victory and showed off their new trophy sitting very well lit in the trophy case against the wall. Blaine mostly nods along with Rachel, holding Kurt's hand tightly.

Rachel disappeared abruptly once she finished telling the story, claiming she had some things she needed to run by Mr. Shuester as part of their nationals celebration dinner the following weekend.

"Hey," Blaine said once Rachel was out of the room, "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yeah," Kurt said smiling. He hadn't noticed how much he missed Blaine's constant texts until he spent an entire weekend with little interaction. He couldn't, _shouldn't_, say it out loud. But he missed Blaine in general and getting to see him now, to have him close, made his heart flutter a little more than he liked, "Of course."

"I know what you're going to say," Blaine said, "but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't at least try."

"Blaine, Kurt said expecting yet another plea from Blaine to tell someone about everything that was going on at home, "what is this about?"

It wasn't until "Prom," escaped Blaine's lips that Kurt let go of the little bit of tension that had been building up inside him.

"Oh," was all Kurt could muster because Blaine's pleas were expected. The mention of prom most definitely was not.

"I just wanted to see if there…was… any sort of…w- way that maybe you could sort of go with me to Prom?"

"Blaine-"

"I know. And I know that you're going to tell me that you can't, and I get that, I'm not upset, really. I just, I just want you to know that there isn't anyone else that I want to go with," Blaine babbled.

Kurt reached out and took hold of Blaine's hand weaving their fingers together. Blaine was so adorable while he was babbling and it broke Kurt's heart to tell him no, "I know. And if I could go—well if I could go a lot would be different. I'm sorry Blaine, I really am."

"Hey," Blaine said giving a squeeze to their joined hands, "We'll always have Valentine's Day right?"

"Yeah," Kurt said softly, "I'm not mad; really. We'll always have Valentine's Day."

* * *

_Blaine (12:04 am): Come to your window.  
__Kurt (12:04 am):?__  
__Blaine (12:05 am): Just do it. Please.  
__Kurt (12: 06 am): How do you even know I'm awake?  
__Blaine (12:06 am): Because you're answering my texts. _

Kurt was sitting in his bed. He had been doing homework all night since there was nothing else he could do to keep his mind away from the fact that everyone else, specifically Blaine, was at prom. Kurt wondered if he would have gone if things were different; wondered if Blaine would still have asked him to be his date. Kurt tried, and failed, not to imagine what it would be like to dance next to Blaine, in front of the entire school. He wondered what it would feel like to have Blaine hold him close during a slow song; not caring about who was looking as Blaine hummed long to the melody in Kurt's ear. It was a beautiful daydream to keep himself from the reality that he was trapped in his bedroom while Blaine went to prom with Rachel.

Prom, and the after party, must have been over if Blaine was texting him. He wasn't sure what to expect when he pulled himself out of bed and padded over to the window of his first story bedroom. Kurt's smiled when he saw what was waiting for him outside the window. Blaine was standing there smiling the smile that made Kurt's heart skip a beat or two each time. He was still wearing most of his rented tux from the dance. He was without his jacket, his bowtie was undone and the ends hung around his neck. His black vest open, his dress shirt was untucked and open on top so that his undershirt was exposed. Kurt leaned against the window sill smiling, taking him in. Bathed in moonlight looking completely not put together, Blaine looked absolutely stunning.

Kurt watched as Blaine wrote something into his phone and a moment later, Kurt looked down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand.

_Blaine (12:08 am): Hi. _

Kurt smiled and waved through the window at Blaine who smiled back at Kurt before he returned to his attention to his phone. When Kurt's phone vibrated again he looked down.

_Blaine (12:09 am): Come outside.  
Kurt (12:09am): Are you insane?  
Blaine (12:09 am): Maybe. Please?  
Blaine (12:10 am): No one will find out. I promise._

Kurt huffed and eyed Blaine again through the window, the other boy doing a fantastic job of showing off his beautiful puppy dog eyes that he knew that Kurt couldn't say no to.

_Kurt (12:11 am): Let me get dressed.  
Blaine (12:11 am): No. Come out like that.  
Kurt (12:11 am): Blaine I'm in flannel pants and a t-shirt.  
Blaine (12:11 am): I don't care. Please?_

Kurt rolled his eyes and unlocked his window. The chances of Uncle Tim waking up in the next six hours were slim. He lifted the window enough to fit himself through, thankful for the one story house. His feet were bare and the damp grass made him cringe as each foot hit the ground. Once outside he turned to look at Blaine who was standing there, smiling, his hand outstretched.

"Come here," Blaine said his voice just loud enough for Kurt to hear him.

Kurt smiled and walked over to Blaine, taking the other boy's hand when he could reach it; Kurt relished in its warmth. Blaine tugged on their now joined hands and pulled Kurt close, wrapping both of his arms around Kurt's waist. The closeness made something clench inside Kurt's chest. It wasn't a bad feeling, but it was a feeling he only got when he was with Blaine; when Blaine held him close like he was.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt questioned quietly as he moved his hands to wrap around Blaine's neck, running his fingers along the hair at the nape. He wasn't entirely convinced that this wasn't more than a dream; a very good dream. He considered, only briefly, pinching himself. But if this was a dream, he wanted to ride whole thing out before he woke up in his bedroom alone.

"I wanted to dance with my b—with the boy I like," Blaine said as if he hadn't almost called Kurt his boyfriend. As if the answer to Kurt's question should have been obvious.

"Are you drunk?" Kurt questioned ignoring Blaine's slip of the tongue; though he was close enough that he would have smelled alcohol on Blaine's breath.

"Hardly," Blaine said smiling as he pulled Kurt closer.

"But prom is over," Kurt said.

"For them? Maybe," Blaine said, his fingers brushing against the fabric at the hem of Kurt's t-shirt, "But for us? For us it hasn't even begun."

"Please don't tell me you've got music or you're going to start singing, because if we wake my uncle up—"

"Hey, hey," Blaine said removing one arm from around Kurt's waist and softly reaching up to cup Kurt's cheek in his hand swiping the pad of his thumb along the bone just underneath Kurt's eye, "I'd never do anything that would hurt you. This is why I have an alternative."

Kurt eyed Blaine suspiciously as Blaine's hand left Kurt's face and reach into the pocket of his pants. A moment later he was pulling out his iPod and a pair of ear buds.

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine whispered, "May I have this dance?"

"You're amazing," Kurt said.

"Is that a yes?"

Kurt nodded looking into Blaine's eyes," Yes, yes you may, "Kurt said taking the ear bud Blaine was extending to him.

"They played this at the dance," Blaine explained, "And while I was standing there watching everyone dance with their dates, all I wanted to do was dance to this…with you."

Blaine hit play and the music started and the two began to sway along. Kurt didn't say a word, just leaned in closer to Blaine as he listened to the song play. Kurt thought it was a perfect song for them. Even though they weren't together, they _couldn't _be together, Blaine had opened up something deep inside Kurt that he'd kept locked away for so long. Somehow, Blaine, with his compassion and his understanding and his presence made Kurt see that Lima had more to offer him than bad days and good days, but great moments in between.

_Maybe I know somewhere  
deep in my soul  
that love never lasts.  
And we've got to find other ways  
to make it alone.  
Or keep a straight face.  
And I've always lived like this  
keeping a comfortable distance.  
And up until now I've sworn to myself  
that I'm content with loneliness.  
Because none of it was ever worth the risk._

"I wish that things were different," Kurt whispered his voice catching a little as the bridge of the song played in their ears.

"I know," Blaine said, "Me too."

"I want to sing to you," Blaine said as the song played on but he wasn't really paying attention to anything but Kurt anymore, "If you'd want me to."

Kurt lifted his head from Blaine's shoulder and looked Blaine in the eye and found exactly what he'd expected, absolute sincerity and the nodded, "I'd like that."

Blaine sang quietly along with the song in Kurt's ear. His voice ghosted over Kurt's skin as they continued to sway in the moonlight. The song ended and moved to something else, but Kurt didn't really pay much attention to it. It's slow enough that they can continue their slight swaying but it didn't mean as much anymore because this wasn't the song that Blaine heard at the prom, the prom he'd attended as Rachel's date and thought only of Kurt during.

"I love you, Kurt," Blaine said his voice just above a whisper.

Kurt froze, their gentle swaying stopped and Kurt pulled away only enough so that he could look Blaine in the eye when he asked, "You do?"

The corners of Blaine's mouth turned upward and there was a sparkle in his hazel eyes, one that Kurt knew was only for him, "Yeah, I do."

Though the words had passed through Kurt's mind, they never escaped his lips. Despite the fact that yes, he did love Blaine. He'd never been more grateful than he was because he had Blaine in his life. But that didn't change the fact that their situation was complicated. They weren't together, not really, even if their hearts were both singing the same song in the most beautiful of melodies. But graduation was coming so fast, and it would only be a matter of time before Kurt left. And while it would destroy him, he still intended on leaving everything in Lima behind him; including Blaine. Kurt wanted nothing more than to say the words; he could feel them on his tongue. But Kurt swallowed them; instead leaning forward and pressing his lips against Blaine's. Because while he understood he wouldn't have Blaine forever, he would certainly cherish the moments that were still left.

* * *

**And if you didn't know...what was Only Exception by Paramore. :)**


	17. Chapter 16

AN: Ah! I'm back! This one is kind of short but super important! So on we go!

R&R?

* * *

It was the first time that Kurt ever thought that it was his fault when Uncle Tim smacked him across the face. Not necessarily because Kurt had done something to provoke his uncle into his latest assault, but because Kurt had been stupid enough to stray from his normal routine and he found himself in the same room as the man for longer than twenty seconds. Kurt was well aware of the half an hour he had the house to himself after school before his uncle got home from work. He used that time to make sure he had everything he needed for the night in his room before he shut the door and let the night go by. But when both Rachel and Blaine begged him to stay with them after school for just an extra half an hour, he stupidly accepted. He should've learned after coming back from Valentine's Day party, that it wasn't a good thing to risk being out of the house, even when Uncle Tim wasn't home, when he should be inside. But he had wanted to stay and be with his friends. He wanted to feel Blaine's arms wrapped around him and his laughter in his ear. He wanted it all so bad that he took a risk, and he'd yet to decide if it was worth the price.

Did thirty minutes of laughing outweigh the smack to the face? Did watching Rachel talk about her plans for New York outweigh the shove into the wall? Did the feel of Blaine's arms around him outweigh the punch to the gut? Or the kick to his knee that caused him to fall to the floor?

There was only a month left before graduation. Four weeks was all he had left before he would walk across that stage and then be on a plane with a one way ticket to New York. Was the light that grew brighter every day worth a few dark moments along the way?

The next day, Kurt wasn't sure if he should get to school early. He was okay. It was nothing compared to the last time, but his knee hurt and he was limping. Before, he didn't have to worry about limping through the hallways because if anyone asked, and they never did, he could say he pulled a muscle or something. But now that he'd let Blaine and Rachel in on the reality of his life, they would both know that if he came limping down the hallway, that something more had happened. Kurt also knew that if he skipped their usual morning gathering, which had now grown to include Tina, Mike, Mercedes, Santana and Brittany, that both Blaine and Rachel would know something was wrong. So he tried his best to hide the limp as he walked into the auditorium to find Blaine, alone, sitting at the piano. Kurt watched him for a moment, Blaine so totally focused as his fingers plucked out a couple stray notes, trying to find the right one.

"Hey," Kurt finally said trying to sound as normal as possible, knowing the second he took a step Blaine would notice his limp, "Everyone else isn't here yet?"

"No," Blaine said standing up, a smile on his face that made Kurt's heart do funny flips inside his chest, "I think Rachel is giving us one of our "alone" mornings."

Kurt smiled, "Well then I have no reason to be angry that Mercedes promised to bring coffee this morning."

"She, well I assume it was her, dropped it off before I got here," Blaine said smiling, "Come here."

Blaine extended his hand out so that Kurt would cross the distance between them and take it, that look in his eye that Kurt knew was meant only for him. That look that made Kurt smile instantly and that reassured him that everything was going to be alright. It was a shame to watch it disappear quickly when he took a step, trying hard to keep his face emotionless and his body working like it should. But it failed. The limp was slight but Blaine picked up on it right away.

"What happened?" Blaine questioned taking long strides to close the distance between himself and Kurt. When Blaine reached up to cup Kurt's cheek in his hand, Kurt wished that Blaine's eyes still have that reassuring glow. Instead they darted over him with concern.

"N-nothing," Kurt placing his hand over Blaine's where it laid on his cheek.

"Kurt, don't lie to me," Blaine said in a tight whisper.

"I'm okay," Kurt breathed.

"You are not. You're limping."

"It'll be gone by tomorrow," Kurt said pulling Blaine's hand away from his face entwining their fingers so that he didn't have to let go of Blaine completely.

"You're making excuses again," Blaine said and it wasn't hard to hear the way Blaine's voice dropped as he did; like he was hurt, like he was disappointed in Kurt.

"Blaine, please leave it alone," Kurt begged.

"No, Kurt, I can't," Blaine said taking hold of Kurt's other hand, "I was stupidly okay with keeping this secret while I knew that he wasn't hurting you. But he hurt you again and I can't just sit by and let that happen."

"What are you going to do?" Kurt questioned, "There's nothing you can do."

"There is. I just don't know what it is yet," Blaine said before placing a kiss on Kurt's cheek, "But I need to help you."

After a brief moment of tense silence, the conversation ended when Santana and Brittany came bursting into the auditorium followed by all of the New Directions. Kurt was relieved that the conversation could be, at least temporarily dropped. He pushed the uneasy feeling in his stomach away and settled himself next to Blaine to enjoy some time with his friends.

* * *

"Kurt," Miss Pillsbury said, "It's been brought to my attention that you're having some trouble at home."

Kurt could feel his stomach threatening to reject his lunch as he sat, suddenly light-headed, in a chair across from Miss Pillsbury in her office. He should have known why he'd been called into her office the moment she sat him down and looked at him like was a kicked puppy.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt said trying to keep his voice steady.

In the past, Kurt had been able to get past his good intentioned guidance counselor with simple lies. It was her that he'd convinced earlier in the year that what she thought was self-harm was nothing more than an accident. But this time, things were different. This time people knew his secret. They knew, and they had told.

"Kurt someone, one of your classmates, came to me yesterday and asked me to speak with you because they think that you need help," Miss Pillsbury explained, her hands folded on the desk in front of her, "from an adult."

Kurt narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right, forging confusion, "I'm sorry that someone wasted your time Miss Pillsbury, but I don't need help from you or anyone else. There is nothing wrong."

Kurt took hold of the strap of his bag and stood quickly, "Thank you for your time Miss Pillsbury. I'm sorry that it was wast-"

"Does your uncle hurt you, Kurt," Emma questioned abruptly and with more assertiveness in her voice than Kurt thought the guidance counselor was even capable of. That and the specifics of her accusations froze Kurt where he stood.

"W-who told you that," Kurt questioned avoiding eye contact and hoping that Miss Pillsbury didn't take his statement as a confession.

"They asked that they remain anonymous."

"It was Blaine wasn't it?" Kurt said turning to look at the guidance counselor feeling completely betrayed by the one person who had promised never to betray him. The person who had told him that he loved him just that morning.

"I can't say who said anything Ku—"

"I know it was him," Kurt interrupted, his voice slightly more panicked now. What if he couldn't lie his way out of this one? What if now after he'd made it this far, everything would blow up so close to the end? "And he's wrong. He has no idea what he's talking about."

"Kurt, these are very serious accusations. Blaine wouldn't have come to me if he wasn't sure. I mean he looked pretty sure and I think he cried a little bit."

He wanted to feel a warm tingly feeling in his chest at Miss Pillsbury's words. He wanted to feel what he'd started identifying as love wash over him. But the feelings he was feeling toward Blaine didn't give him that same sense of security that it had that morning. Now he'd never felt more vulnerable in his life.

"I will speak to him Miss Pillsbury," Kurt said taking a step toward the door, "But please be assured this is nothing more than a misunderstanding on Blaine's part. I'll make sure he stops by to see you before the end of the day to clear this up."

Kurt walked out of the guidance counselor's office, determined to find Blaine, and fast. Checking the time he knew that he would be in the choir room so he could rehearse for the coming assembly with Rachel. And that's exactly where Kurt found him bent over some sheet music on top of the piano.

"You told Miss Pillsbury," Kurt shouted the moment he passed through the doorway, pulling it shut behind him.

Blaine looked up from his music, shocked by Kurt's presence, but not by his accusation, "I told you that I was going to help you."

"I didn't think you would go tell a teacher," Kurt said moving to stand on the other side of the piano.

"Kurt, I'm scared for you," Blaine said, his voice breaking.

"You promised that you weren't going to say anything to anyone. You promised me, Blaine."

"No, Kurt, I didn't," Blaine said raising his voice, "I promised you that if I thought you had this under control, I would keep this secret. But he hurt you again Kurt. He hurt you and I can't just sit around and let him do that. If you're not going to take control of your life, I am."

"You don't get to make choices for me Blaine. Not about this," Kurt shouted, "Do you have any idea what you just did Blaine? Do you have _any_ idea?"

Blaine remained quiet as the tears began to well up in Kurt's eyes.

"If she calls my uncle… If she so much as hints that she thinks that something is wrong, and that he's responsible. He'll..." Kurt's voice trailed off. He couldn't say it. He couldn't say it because saying it scared him just as much as it actually happening.

"Kurt, I'm so-"

"No, Blaine. I need you to go to Miss Pillsbury and tell her you don't actually know what you're talking about and that there is nothing going on. I already told her this was a misunderstanding so all I need is for you to tell her too. Before she calls the police, or worse, my uncle."

"Kurt, I can't do that. You need help."

"You promised me that you'd never do anything to hurt me Blaine. You promised that you loved me and that you wouldn't do anything that ever hurt me. Well guess what Blaine? This is going to hurt me. This is going to hurt me worse than the fact that you betrayed my trust in you. This is going to hurt me worse than the fact that I don't ever want to see you again and there are still three weeks left of school and you're locker is right next to mine! This is going to hurt me Blaine more than you can even imagine."

"Kurt if you let Miss Pillsbury, or the police help you he won't ever hurt you again. I don't understand why you don't get that? I don't understand why you haven't done anything about this?"

"I don't have to explain my reasons to you, Blaine. But I thought you would at least respect that I'd made a choice."

"Kurt, _I love you_. I can't just stand around and let it keep happening. You can beg me this time, but what about when you beg me next time or the time after that."

"There are three weeks until graduation, Blaine. Then I'm gone. There aren't that many times left."

"I don't care! The first time was enough for me to know that I can't be quiet about this Kurt. I'm sorry that I betrayed your trust, but I will not be sorry that I tried to help you."

Kurt stood quiet for a moment. He looked at Blaine and tears the tears rushing down his cheeks and knew that was crying just the same. But he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before he spoke, "Blaine, if he kills me. It's going to be on you."

* * *

AN: After giving this much thought, there are probably only going to be 2 more chapters after this and I'm afraid to say this, but I'm going to aim to have this updated again next weekend. I already have Chapter 17 started.


	18. Chapter 17

AN: A little later than expected, but I'm just glad I got it up this quick! Enjoy, there is only one more after this! If you're seeing this, thanks for reading. If you've reviewed (or are going to ;)) thank you, if you've favorited this, thank you. You guys are seriously amazing!

So on we go...

R&R?

* * *

The three weeks until graduation passed in a blur for Kurt. Before he knew it, he'd taken his final high school exam and all that was left was to graduate.

The McKinley High School class of 2012 graduation ceremony was held at 7PM on Wednesday night, May 30th in the auditorium. New Directions were performing and during that time, Kurt Hummel was locked in his bedroom with a pile of boxes as he prepared for his departure for New York in a little over a week. There wasn't much he was taking with him. He had little from Lima he wanted to take with him. He packed most, but not all, of his clothes neatly into boxes. Even though most of it was purchased with his uncle's money, he needed something to wear. Almost everything else he was leaving. His laptop, his cellphone, his iPod, anything that had been given to Kurt as a gift from his uncle was being left in a box on top of his desk. He wanted nothing to remind him of the farce of a home he'd occupied for so many years.

Kurt took apart his easel and packed and his other art supplies, pausing when he reached for the art set Blaine had gotten him for Christmas. The wooden box, and the boy who had given it to him, caused Kurt's chest to tighten and pressure to start building up behind his eyes as he placed it in the brown box to follow him to New York. He'd managed to steal it back from his uncle; it would be a waste if he left it behind. It would be the only thing in New York to remind him of the boy he was desperately trying to push from his heart.

He took another moment when he picked up the pictures from his nightstand. There was the one of him and Blaine that his uncle had used as a weapon, one of New Directions during the last competition he'd performed in with them, and a picture of his parent's on their wedding day.

Kurt focused on the picture of his parents. He wondered if they would be proud of him; if they would praise him for getting out of such a terrible situation and getting out of Lima, all by himself. He liked to think that they would. But then again, if they were around to praise him, he would never have been in such a terrible place to begin with. He didn't blame his parents for any of it; He couldn't. He knew that they loved him so very much on the days they died, and they wouldn't have left him if they didn't have to. He'd been left alone, but he never felt abandoned. He didn't believe in God (how could he) so he didn't believe in angels, but he knew that somehow, if by nothing more than memory, part of his parents stayed with him through everything. It was the main reason he was walking out of this with his head held high.

Rachel convinced Kurt that while he most definitely needed to get out of his uncle's house on the day he turned eighteen, he didn't have to run to New York right away. So instead of blowing out candles, Kurt spent his birthday packing everything he was taking with him in the back of Rachel's car while his uncle was at work. He left nothing but the box with the things he didn't want any more and a note that simply read 'goodbye' on the kitchen table and went to take refuge in Rachel's bedroom until they would both leave for New York in a week. It would be just like they had planned.

They would take on the journey to New York _together_.

* * *

A couple of nights after Kurt had moved temporarily into Rachel's bedroom, he and Rachel were lying on the bed late at night whispering about how much they were excited about their impending move to the Big Apple. They'd just finished deciding how they were going to decorate the loft that they would be sharing (mostly thanks to Rachel's parents) while in New York. Kurt's excitement about the whole thing made his entire body buzz with an electricity he couldn't control. They fell into a comfortable silence, both of them staring at the ceiling listening to the music that was coming from Rachel's laptop.

"Do you miss him?" Rachel asked quietly.

Neither of them had mentioned Blaine since Kurt moved his entire locker into Rachel's after Kurt had stormed out of the choir room leaving Blaine with some angry last words. But just because he wasn't mentioned didn't mean that he wasn't constantly on Kurt's mind.

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, before opening them and continuing his upward gaze into the mostly dark room, "Terribly."

"You should talk to him," Rachel suggested, her eyes still focused on the ceiling.

"I just," Kurt started, his voice catching, "I don't know if I can forgive him."

"The only thing he's guilty of is loving you Kurt," Rachel said turning her head to the left to look at Kurt who continued to look towards the ceiling, "He did something I should've done a long time ago."

Kurt finally turned his head to look at Rachel, "And why didn't you? I mean, other than me asking you not to, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I was afraid you'd never speak to me again. That's what makes him better than me. He was looking out for you; I was looking out for myself."

"But nothing's changed."

"Hasn't it?" Rachel asked said sitting up, and Kurt pushed himself up on his elbows to follow, "You're safe and you're free. Free from your uncle and free to love Blaine like you should've been since you met; the way you couldn't before."

"I'm still leaving," Kurt explained.

"I'm pretty sure that he doesn't care. You could be moving across the world and he'd still love you."

"I'm scared," Kurt said looking away from Rachel, focusing straight in front of him.

"I know," Rachel said grabbing Kurt's hand, "and that's okay. But you've got to tell him how you feel or you could miss out on the most amazing thing that could ever happen to you.

Kurt sighed. Maybe she was right. Of course she was right. The truth was, Blaine loved him enough to accept that Kurt would hate him after he'd told Miss Pillsbury. And that made Kurt love Blaine a whole lot more than he had a second before. But that still didn't change the fact that the last memory Kurt had of Blaine was his blood drained face before he'd stormed out of the choir room. "Let's say I can forgive him. I wasn't exactly nice to him. I said some really awful things to him the last time I talked to him."

"How awful?"

Kurt looked back towards Rachel as he spoke, "I told him that if I died, that it would be his fault."

"You didn't!" Rachel said loud enough to wake her neighbors, if not her parents.

"I did," Kurt said in a hushed voice, "and now here I am free of everything because Miss Pillsbury is so gullible that she believed me when I said nothing was wrong and the last thing I said to Blaine was that if I died it would be his fault. I'm such an idiot."

"You were scared," Rachel said trying to rationalize Kurt's behavior, for herself and for Kurt.

"Maybe. But that doesn't excuse my terrible behavior. I should've been nicer to him. He deserves to be treated better than the way I've treated him. He's been amazing and I was too involved with myself to show him how much he meant, how much he means to me," Kurt confessed.

"You love him don't you?" Rachel whispered leaning her head on Kurt's shoulder.

"With everything that I am," Kurt said, "This wasn't exactly how I pictured my fairy tale, but I certainly found my Prince Charming."

Rachel had insisted on hosting one final Glee party that served not only as a bon voyage party, but also a birthday party for Kurt. He'd insisted that this party bring no attention to himself, especially since Kurt hadn't been part of New Directions in quite some time, but Rachel didn't seem to care about Kurt's wishes and began organizing what she was calling the 'Glee party to end all Glee parties'. But the truth was, this was probably going to be the last time that every single one of them would be in the same room together. There were going to be promises to keep in touch, but most of them wouldn't be kept. And while he'd been convinced to delay his departure from Lima, once he was gone, he had no intention of ever coming back.

So despite the fact that there was a giant cake in one corner of the Berry's entertainment room, and a pile of gifts in another, Kurt made the most of the time he had left with his friend. Half way through the night, after spending most of it at Rachel's side, Kurt stood quietly against the wall as everyone else moved around him, paired or grouped together in various conversations. For a group that spent most of their time with one another, they sure had a lot to discuss all the time. In the corner next to the gifts, Blaine was talking animatedly with Tina about something, a smile on his face as his hands gestured wildly.

"I couldn't not invite him," Rachel said as she came to stand next to Kurt.

"No, I know," Kurt said, his eyes still watching Blaine, "He's your friend. Just because things are tense between us doesn't mean you should suffer."

"He's not here for me," Rachel said and Kurt rolled his eyes in response, "You should talk to him."

"I don't want to ruin the night."

"You standing here looking like a lost puppy is ruining my night," Rachel said, "If you forgive him, he'll forgive you. Bring him up to my room and talk to him. No one will bother you."

Kurt's eyes went wide and he shot a look at Rachel, surprised that she'd make such a suggestion.

Rachel laughed, "I'm not saying you should do _that_. But it's the only place in the house that you're going to be able to talk without the risk of someone hearing you."

Kurt took a breath and squared his shoulders but before he could take a step, Rachel was pushing him forward. Kurt continued walking but shot Rachel a glare before he approached Blaine and Tina.

"Hey guys," Kurt said to the both of them before looking Blaine in the eye, "Can I talk to you?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

They both excused themselves and Kurt led them quietly up the staircase to the main level of the house and then motioned for Blaine to follow him up another.

"Where are we going?" Blaine questioned but followed anyway.

"Rachel's room," Kurt said stopped at the top of the stairs, "I can't risk anyone else hearing what I have to say."

Blaine nodded and followed as Kurt led them to Rachel's bedroom, closing the door behind them once they were inside.

"I owe you an apology," Kurt said once the door had clicked shut.

"It's okay," Blaine responded and Kurt couldn't help but believe that Blaine had only been so forgiving because of the situation Kurt had been in. Blaine had been so upset with Kurt when he'd been pushed away before he knew the truth, and now he seemed to be taking pity on Kurt.

"No, it's not. Can you just listen to me for a minute? I'm probably going to ramble."

"Okay," Blaine said softly.

"I've spent most of the time since my parents died relying on myself. I love Rachel and her dads to death, and I appreciate every single thing they've done for me. But I've known for a long time that the only person I could trust without a shadow of a doubt was myself. A couple of dead parents and an abusive relative can leave a guy with some trust issues. I don't trust people easily. But I trusted you. And I trusted you to keep my stupid secret, but I shouldn't have. Not because you're untrustworthy, but because I shouldn't have expected someone who cared about me to not try to keep me safe. I knew all along that what I was asking you to do was wrong, I did. And when you did the one thing that no one, not even myself, was strong enough to do, I lashed out because I was scared. I was afraid of not getting out of Lima. Yes, I was afraid that my uncle would do something crazy, but I was mostly afraid that I would get stuck in Lima because there would be charges and a trial and then everyone would know and everyone would pity me. Poor Kurt. He got a shitty hand dealt to him," Kurt took a breath and looked Blaine in the eye. The hazel eyes he'd come to find so much comfort, and most importantly safety inside, "I said some really awful things to you Blaine when what I should have been doing was thanking you. I should've been thanking you for loving me enough to try to save my life."

"What good that did."

"I'm here aren't I? And I'm free of my uncle and I'm free for the first time in years to be myself and to do the things I want to do. I just graduated high school and am about to go to the top fashion design school in the country. I never thought I'd make it this far. And it's all because of you."

"That's crazy, Kurt."

"No, it's not. Before I met you I had resigned to a life of being alone; at least while I was in Lima. I had pushed everyone that I cared about and who cared about me away because I couldn't risk exposing them to my life and my secrets. I was getting by, but I wasn't living. And then there you were at my locker and in English and you were persistent when I wanted nothing more than for you to leave me alone. Because if I couldn't have my friends, why should I have you? Why should I have something that made me happy? But you kept pushing and when I finally had to let you in for fear of you making a fool of yourself, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. It was because of you that I fixed my relationship with Rachel; it was because of you that I got the chance to kind of get my friends back. And I'm going to New York, seriously lacking in the major life experiences a teenager is supposed to have in high school. Except one."

Blaine shot a questioning gaze in Kurt's direction.

"Falling in love."

Tiny gasp escaped Blaine's lips and Kurt couldn't stop his lips from forming a smile, "Yeah?"

"It's been killing me not being able to say it out loud; to not say it to you."

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I really am."

"Don't be. Please don't ever be sorry for showing me how amazing you are."

"But where does that leave us?"

"We leave in a couple of days, Blaine. And I'm never coming back to Lima. I can't."

"I've been thinking," Blaine said, "And I think I want to go to school in New York too. I've been looking over some of Rachel's programs for NYADA, and I think I want to apply."

"You—Really?"

"Yeah, and even if that doesn't work out, New York is full of performing arts schools. If I want to make it on Broadway I should be in New York right? And if you're there too, it would just make everything that much better."

"And until you get to New York? What are we supposed to do?"

"We…figure it out as we go. I want to get a job this summer and I can save money and come visit before the school starts, and on long weekends."

"You sound so optimistic."

"Don't you want to…try…to make this work?"

"What? No, of course I do. I'm just…scared."

"So am I. But we'll figure it out, alright? Because I love you."

"I love you too."

Blaine took a step to close the distance between himself and Kurt, reaching a tentative hand up to cup Kurt's cheek. When he leaned in to press their lips together, Kurt was certain that he'd done what he thought was impossible. As their lips moved together soft and slow, that he'd somehow found the light at the end of the tunnel while still in Lima. Blaine was what was waiting for him at the end of the broken, bruised and beaten path that he'd been forced to take through life. He'd spent so long thinking that it would be New York that would save him and take him out of the darkness. But it was the boy who held him close at the waist, the boy whose neck he had his own arms wrapped around, the boy who for the first time in a very, very long time made him feel like he had a place where he belonged.

* * *

So this is the end...

Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, waiting insane amounts of time between updates, and just being generally awesome. It's been a long time since I actually finished a story and getting a chance to write this, and for you guys to like it, makes this writer's heart very happy. I'm blowing big internet kisses at all of you.

My next story was supposed to be Sam/Quinn, but due to some unexpected inspiration is going to be Kurt/Blaine. I will probably start posting it the weekend after this ridiculous hiatus is over! Working title is: It's a Rich Man's World.

Until then, you can check me out on twitter and tumblr (thatgleekychick on both). I usually livetweet while I'm writing (counterproductive I know) but otherwise it's just me crying over Kurt/Blaine/Klaine.


	19. Author's Note

Hi Guys!

So after I finished the last chapter, I realized that maybe this story is better off ending at the end of Chapter 17. Kurt and Blaine are, for the most part, together. They are happy. Kurt is going off to Parsons, and they love each other. There's no doubt that the year apart will bring about some conflict, just look at our boys in canon, but the story of Porcelain, the story of Kurt's struggle to get out from underneath his uncle and out of Lima, is over. I'm sorry I made you wait so long before I told you, I just wanted to make sure that I was sure.

That being said, thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, waiting insane amounts of time between updates, and just being generally awesome. It's been a long time since I actually finished a story and getting a chance to write this, and for you guys to like it, makes this writer's heart very happy. I'm blowing big internet kisses at all of you.

My next story was supposed to be Sam/Quinn, but due to some unexpected inspiration is going to be Kurt/Blaine. I will probably start posting it the weekend after this ridiculous hiatus is over! Working title is: It's a Rich Man's World.

Until then, you can check me out on twitter and tumblr (thatgleekychick on both). I usually livetweet while I'm writing (counterproductive I know) but otherwise it's just me crying over Kurt/Blaine/Klaine.

-Jen

PS. This (meaning the author's note) will be deleted in a couple of days.


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